#is this about needing enough evidence to prove herself as she has time and time again?

[taylortruther]

i think the songs on the album will be utterly earnest and personal, but it is so interesting that she's juxtaposing the supposed authenticity of the "tortured poet" (the idea that to be artistic you must be dark, tortured, etc and your work must reflect that in a specific way, or you're not considered a real artist, maybe even a sellout, a shill) with "department," a concept that implies administration or detachment, a mere method of organization. as if the act of creating "tortured art" has been catalogued, maybe even commodified or turned routine. like, even the way she presents her art, her truth, as "evidence"... the way her songs about her life are organized and labeled as "artifacts," even though they are intimate and personal. there's just a few layers of irony here that i'm really excited for, and that addresses so much of discourse around her artistry, life, and mythology.

[greenqueenhightower]

Larys x Alicent Scene in 2x04—Analysis:

The scene opens with Alicent getting a hot stone to ease her abortion pains which were distracting enough that she forgot to hide the moon tea jar. She bids “come” to the visitor who knocks at her door. She’s suffering alone, having refused the maids and servants Larys sent her to tend to her every need. It's her attempt to loosen his grip on her.

Notice how she says “Lord Larys” and closes her eyes when she becomes aware of his presence. He has appeared at the worst possible moment.

Larys knows immediately that something is amiss for Alicent to skip the council meeting, and as per Matthew’s words, whenever something is going on, Larys seeks a way to benefit from it. So he enters the room and Alicent lies blatantly and in front of his face. He doesn’t like that. After all, they had a relationship of mutual trust. Or so he thought. Alicent now reveals that she could never trust him fully, and maybe he should have done the same. There is so much unsaid conversation happening.

Alicent is scared to finally expose herself so openly to Larys who can see right through her and her lies. Look at how Larys stares at Alicent when he says “that is a rich indulgence” referring to the moon tea. The tension is off the charts. He says “it is a sin to deny your appetites” and he means Alicent's natural sexual drives. He is basically telling her that she shouldn’t feel sorry or in need to hide the fact she is having sex; if only she were doing so more openly. Is that an invitation?

“They are what make us fully alive as mortal men.” Larys compares his foot fetish to Alicent's sexual lust. They are both appetites and he offers an excuse for both of them. Larys is already thinking about how he might use this situation to his advantage. 

Alicent is evidently afraid and disturbed. Her secret is exposed. She changes the subject to the council. She has to steady herself and grab a chair. She bends her back and looks more crippled during that scene than Larys who again towers over her. He further examines her surroundings for more information. What is going through the Queen’s mind these days? Has he completely lost his grip on her since she sent all the maids away?

“Ser Criston wins every challenge he faces there” and “you must worry for him”—he knows, he definitely knows, and tries to provoke a reaction. Her general response of only worrying for him because he is the Hand of the King, confirms it. Notice how he stands up to come closer to her and Alicent sighs and holds her forehead; she knows this interrogation is not over.

He tells her that she has not appeared herself as of late. It's him, Larys Strong, who knows the Queen so well that he can offer a comparison. Something is amiss; what has so altered her state? This time he is not fishing for Alicole confirmation, he is referring to her frame of mind. What has upset it? Her response is enlightening not because she lets him in on the toll these events have had on her, but because essentially, she tells him off. She implies that he should mind his place, and stop trying to invade her every thought, the same way he invades her space. That he should let her at least have her mind to herself. But he knows how to get her to talk, and she reveals that she started looking into the histories as a source of wisdom like Viserys did.

Notice how shocked she is when he proves that he can read her thoughts and say: “do you think this is why he changed his mind, in the end?” Damn it, damn him, how does he do it every time? He knows what she's thinking. He knows she's been musing over Viserys’ wish for Rhaenyra to be Queen.

“Do you now doubt his intentions?” Larys is a discerning creep. He manages to get what he wants out of Alicent: she responds in a way that matters so much to him and concerns how the war will be fought. Is his Queen going to chicken out now that she has discovered her misinterpretation of Viserys’ words? How is his Green side going to fare in this war? Should he be looking elsewhere, or do they still have the upper hand and go for the win? Alicent reassures him by saying that Viserys wishes have ceased to matter. They are going to pursue their goal nonetheless. And that is what Larys wants to see and hear: that they are still on the same page and she is ready and willing to play the game for herself. That they are still the cunning and scheming allies they have always been, despite Alicent's revelations.

Or, he starts to think, perhaps even more so now.

[finxwrites]

strange & grimm, which btw sounds like an urban fantasy affectionately parodic hardboiled detective agency. probably queer.

It was a hot, muggy night in the Enchanted Forest. Everyone with a lick of sense was down in the fairy glens, hoping the Winter Court would put in an appearance and bring a breeze on with them. Lucky me, I’m the sucker who fingered the Snow Queen for the missing persons case last winter, so I’m persona non grata in the fairy glens these days.

Just as well. I couldn’t afford to leave the office, not when it’d been so long since my last case. Though on a night like this, I might as well not bother. It was too hot for crime. Even the leaves on the enchanted trees were drooping in the heat. 

I was just about to call it a night when a dame walked in my door. Tall, blonde, legs for days, with an air of tragedy that could put an unloved stepchild to shame. I looked her over suspiciously for any cheery woodland creatures hidden in her golden ringlets. If she was a princess, I’d turf her right back out of the office, case unheard. Princesses paid well, but they were more trouble than they were worth.

No mice poked their adorable little noses out of her pockets as the dame sank into a chair and fixed me with a hard look. “I hear you’re the best in the business,” she said without preamble. “And I need the best.”

I leaned back in my seat. “Baby, I’m the only one in the business. It’s not a good genre for private dicks.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, yes, far too child-friendly for any sort of dicks.” Before I could recover from that little gem, she went on, “It’s a child I’m here about. My sister. She’s…she’s gone missing.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “Please, Detective, you’re my last hope. The royal courts won’t hear me out, they think she’s gone on the lam!”

I nodded grimly. “One of those Bo Peep situations, huh?” I get a depressing number of those. All it takes is one wolf in sheep’s clothing—you’d think the kids would learn.

The dame glared. There was enough cold iron in her gaze to put a fairy off her ambrosia. “On the lam, Detective. On the run. My sister has…something of a record.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Your sister the child? She some kind of crime prodigy?”

The dame fidgeted, looking away. “She’s…” She sighed explosively. “My sister is Goldilocks.”

I whistled, low and long. Crime prodigy indeed—Goldilocks was wanted in five kingdoms for the most impressive string of burglaries the Enchanted Forest had ever seen. No one could ever prove she’d done it, but the circumstantial evidence had piled up higher than mattresses on a pea. No wonder no royal court would take this case.

The dame’s shoulders hunched defensively, but she bulled on without trying to defend her wayward sister. “She’s gone missing, and I know it’s not another one of her sprees. Something is wrong this time.” She turned back to meet my eyes, her lovely features harsh with poorly-suppressed fear. “It’s her first crime come back to haunt her, I just know it is. They’ve always wanted revenge—especially the baby of the family, and he’s all grown up now. What they’d do if they got hold of her—“ She cut herself off with a watery gasp; her eyes were wet with tears. “Oh, it doesn’t bear thinking about!”

I handed her a handkerchief and gave her a minute to compose herself. It gave me a minute, too, to decide if I was really going to be this stupid. You don’t tangle with the big predators, not if you know what’s good for you, and especially not a whole family of them. Families are a dangerous thing in any genre.

But I was her last hope, and I’m a sucker for lost causes. And if I didn’t get paid soon, this business would become a lost cause itself. I said a silent farewell to my good sense as it packed its bags and left for kinder climes. “Alright,” I told the dame, “Give me the facts. We’ll see what kind of a story they tell.”

[en-stbc]

i've seen enough people crying over this uzi sacrifice scene in ep7 but i don't think enough people actually analyzes esp uzi and N's character (atleast from what i've seen??) and my god i need to rant because this scene the more i watch it the more it ABSOLUTELY destroys me (save me nuzi save me...)

messy rant incoming...

alright, quick recap of the characters so i can later explain my points better

pilot uzi had no one to rely on, treated as a freak by her community, neglected by her father and overall completely isolated with the world. She had no one but herself, that's why she never allows herself to show any vulnerabilities so people won't take advantage of her and literally dismisses her own feelings and coping mechanisms as "angsty hormonal teen feelings" and developed a inferiority complex of wanting to prove herself and be recognized. Meeting N was more than just a change of trajectory in her life, he helped her in so, SO many ways from making her realize that her feelings are validated and it's okay to lean on others when you need it the most, to be vulnerable- something that she desperately needed but was never provided- to helping her just.. overall improve herself and promise that he'll always be there when she needs him the most. N is so integral in uzi's life, all she needed was someone to understand her, and there he was.

meanwhile N is always treated as a worthless nobody by people around him which is very evident in the pilot with his interactions between J and V. He clearly has issues when it comes to his own self worth and completely robbed of autonomy. All he ever wanted was to be useful and seen by others, which leads to him going along with other's insane crazy ideas without questioning morals and rights or wrongs. Uzi was the one that helped him find a ground he can stand on and finally being able to defend himself and what he thinks is worth protecting, as well as being a genuine friend he can finally talk and bond with after being ignored for so long.

and back to the scene. The reason why this scene hurts so much for me is that uzi finally found someone so important to her that she's willing to sacrifice herself and thanked N for "everything" he's ever done. He gave her everything that she could possibly ask for, she was content. Uzi even used her solver powers to push N away to make sure he wasn't in danger or an attempt to save her. The fact that she even thanked N, making it sounds like her final words to him implies that she was okay with dying and giving up her own life just really says how much N meant to her. She couldn't have done all of this without meeting him, to be selfless and sacrifice yourself for someone you truly love.

for N he's probably absolutely devastated, especially after V's sacrifice the ep before. Both of his closest friends sacrificed also for the sake of saving him, he literally could not do anything but watch them disappear in front of him. He'd probably blame himself so much for failing to save them and the fact that he has self harm tendencies every time he makes a mistake... N is definitely VERY TRAUMATIZED from this and also needs time to heal as well.

overall im very normal about nuzi these 2 will be the death of me i love them so much. both of them meeting each other was the best thing that ever happened to them and watching them grow and develop is so 😭😭😭

have a good day thank you so much for reading this very messy rant and bare with my very limited vocabulary if you did... ;3

[bestworstcase]

in light of the v9 lore confirming the unreliable nature of jinn’s narration (light was not the “elder” brother), together with the glaring falsehood in the narration implying that salem lied when she truthfully “blamed the end of the world on the gods”

i’m not hedging anymore. we cannot trust jinn’s account of what salem told people during her rebellion, full stop.

“If she were to turn humanity against Light and Darkness, she could rid herself of their curse—or at the very least, she could make them suffer. Salem traveled from one kingdom to another, telling tales of how she stole immortality from the gods, inviting any swordsman to cut her down, and demonstrated her powers. With the kings and queens in awe, she pulled them deeper into her scheme; she painted them pictures of a time when they would no longer have to watch their loved ones wither and die, when they could claim the powers of their creators for themselves, and in turn, perfect their own design. All they needed to do was destroy their old masters.”

jinn describes this campaign as if salem deceived everyone, maliciously tricked them into serving as pawns in her hatred of the gods—but

when she’s beaten, salem stands up and vows to “tell the world of this massacre”—she’s enraged and horrified on behalf of the slain. she’s horrified when the god of darkness tells her he killed everyone. her reactions do not support the implication that these people meant nothing to her.

there is a strong ideological continuity between “overthrow our old masters, claim the powers of our creators for ourselves, and perfect our own design” and “we could be the gods of this world […] create the paradise the old gods could not.” this continuity suggests that salem actually believes in this cause, enough to hold onto it for millions of years.

so, did salem really claim to have ‘stolen’ immortality from the gods… or did she tell her allies that she became immortal through submersion in the fountain of life? that the gods can bring people back from the dead, and simply choose not to because they care only about enforcing their will? did she “pull them deeper into her scheme” or did she talk openly of what she had learned about the cruelty and fallibility of the gods? did she deceptively trick people into following her with fantasies of immortality or did she just pull back the curtain to reveal that the permanent ending of death only existed by arbitrary divine fiat that self-evidently can be changed?

just as jinn’s narration framed salem implicitly vowing to revere darkness above light if he helped her as salem deceiving and manipulating him by “making no mention of his elder” (<- why would she? this bargain was between her and darkness), this account of what salem did to foment rebellion against the gods aligns closely enough with the truth (salem did gain divine power, eternal death is an arbitrary rule, and the gods are fallible) that what it really comes down to is whether we trust jinn’s description of salem’s intentions.

did salem lie, or did she tell the truth in defiance of how the god of light thinks the world should be? did she deceive people, or did she reveal the brothers’ deceptions?

the god of light—and therefore ozpin and therefore jinn—see salem as a puppet-master making the whole world dance to her tune. “who has led you down this path?” he asks. she’s his scapegoat. but salem knelt before thrones and invited people to slit her throat to prove that she was telling the truth, and she isn’t the one who leads the army into light’s domain; she walks among them, not in front. in a story told with such robust symbolic language, that kind of storytelling choice matters.

she may have started the rebellion, but it became bigger than her; i don’t think salem even saw herself as their leader, necessarily. otherwise why not lead the way?

jinn’s narration—ozpin’s side of the story—devotes so much effort toward creating the impression that salem is a duplicitous, manipulative liar (like ozma), and then… salem hates being lied to. salem yells and throws tables when people lie to her. the cruelest thing salem can think of to say to oscar when she decides to hurt him is “the lies come out of you so easily; likeminded souls, indeed.” the opening lines of the show amount to salem saying that ozpin’s legends and fairytales aren’t true, that he’s obscured the “forgotten past.” both of her songs rage against ozma’s deceit—maidens and kingdoms wrapped up in a lie, and these children you mislead, and the more you try the more you’ll just breed hate and lies/truth will rise revealed by mirrored eyes. salem as a character is consistently associated with the truth and her hatred of deception is one of her most pronounced traits.

the lost fable is unreliably narrated—we now know this for a fact, because jinn describes the god of light as the elder brother and that is not true. there are many noticeable discrepancies between the narration and what’s actually shown. “stories aren’t reality” and “truth is hard to come by” are overtly-stated themes. and the lost fable answers the question “what is ozpin hiding from us?” and is thus presented strictly through his eyes.

in the fairytale anthology, ozpin helpfully informs the reader that stories like ‘the girl in the tower’ and ‘the infinite man’ are propaganda, not the truth.

so…

do we really believe this repeated claim that every word out of salem’s mouth is a manipulative lie? words we’re not even allowed to hear for ourselves? when the characters telling us that salem lied are ozpin and a bound spirit recounting ozpin’s side of the story? in the unreliable narrators show?

is the word gullible written on the ceiling?

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for calling animal rescue/welfare on my mom who loves her pets?

My mom has 2 cats and 1 dog. I want to start off by saying that she doesn't physically abuse her animals.

They're in a weird state of being really emotionally spoiled and completely physically neglected. The dog sleeps in bed with her and is always on the sofa, doesn't get told off when he pees and poops in the house, and the cats are always getting cuddles. The cats are getting kinda fat because they're fed a lot.

My mom is an alcoholic and she doesn't look after herself or her home at all. It's been years since she showered or bathed, she goes weeks without changing her clothes except for when she works, her house is genuinely falling completely apart. Cupboard doors are falling off at the hinges and propped up with buckets, doors don't close, carpets are coming up off the floor, wallpaper is peeling, the shower door fell off and shattered, the toilet lid is cracked in half, the floors are too dirty to step on without shoes, the entire house STINKS of animal urine and there are stains everywhere. A couple of years back she had an insect infestation in one of the bedrooms.

Now, my mom loves her pets and really emotionally relies on them. Ever since I moved out she's been alone and has regressed even worse because when she's at home she has nothing to do but drink and watch TV. The pets are her only company most days.

However, her bad hygiene and home care translates to them. It has been YEARS since the dog was walked, and months since he even got a cursory trip over the road to the small grass area outside her house. His fur is always matted, and he recently had fleas (god knows how when he doesn't leave the house but there you go). He has bald patches of fur missing. He pees and poops all over the floors and carpets because he just doesn't get let outside to do it enough - and he runs away or hides when you find it so he 100% knows he's not supposed to, he just doesn't have a choice because he's not able to go into the garden. His claws are always so long they're bothering him when he walks, and as gross as it is to describe there have been COUNTLESS times I've visited and he's had literal shit caked onto his fur around his tail because he's had diarrhea and when I've pointed it out that he needs to be washed my mom brushes it off with "It's only a little bit" and continues to let him onto the bed/couch.

The cats are mildly better off because they can clean themselves, but their litter trays are always OVERFLOWING - like, genuinely, mountains of cat poop piling up in the trays to the point where they're going on the floor because they don't have room in the tray - and one of them is sleeping in a bed that is Caked in vomit stains, clumps of hair, other miscellaneous marks, all of that.

I've called someone about it before when I still lived there, and a woman did stop by to check it out and told my mom that the cat litters were unacceptable, but my mom just lies to them. According to her the dog gets walked twice a day without fail, gets a ton of enrichment, everything, and you can't really prove her to be lying. The woman told her she'd drop by in a week to check on the litters, my mom kept them clean until she came back and gave the okay, and then just went right back to neglecting them and nothing was done about it.

I have no idea what to do anymore but I want to call again and really impress upon them that they're not being cared for. I sent photos and video evidence last time along with an explanation, but it doesn't seem like it got me anywhere at all. I just don't know what else to do. I've brought up the idea of taking at least the dog with me to my new place (it's very nearby so she'd still be able to visit him and I'd be able to walk him up to her house), but she VEHEMENTLY objected and told me she'd never be able to let him go.

I'm not sure what it would do tbh, even disregarding that she'd probably just get a new pet I would be genuinely worried she'd lose all interest in life if they were taken away.

TL;DR Mom's alcoholism means she doesn't look after her pets and they're not being cared for at all, but taking them away would severely impact her mental health.

WIBTA for calling animal services on her again?

What are these acronyms?

[just-jordie-things]

[part two] trouble - takuma ino

word count: 9k warnings: swearing, drinking, slight harassment (a creep puts his hand on reader's waist for 0.2 seconds) summary: she's only agreed to one night out- and that doesn't mean anything at all. it also doesn't mean anything that a few drinks has her admitting that ino's eyes are actually quite pretty. contents: rivals to begrudged friends, gojo!reader, nanami leaves the function at his first oppurtunity, ino and (y/n) have an alcohol fueled breakthrough.

part two: "got so much to prove" ___

Gojo Satoru was nothing like his sibling counterpart, and she was dead set on keeping it that way.  Where he was overbearing, she was uninvolved.  Where he was obnoxious, she was reserved.  For most of her life she could recall trying to steer herself into the opposite direction Satoru was heading.  

That was, until it came to sorcery.

If it weren’t for him, she wouldn’t have needed to crawl up a ladder to claim the Grade One title.  If it weren’t for him, she could’ve made a name for herself rather than live in the shadow that was their family name.  If it weren’t for him, she wouldn’t be stuck in this too-loud bar throwing back too-weak drinks.

Nanami didn’t seem too thrilled about having his evening decided for him, either.  He was nursing his third beer and the alcohol still hadn’t loosened him enough to lose the look of pure disinterest on his face.  (y/n) couldn’t blame him, seeing as she didn’t want to be here either.

Takuma, on the other hand, was having the time of his life.  He’d eagerly ordered them a round of shots despite their protests, claiming it was a right of passage for their first outing together.

“I’m not taking a shot,” Nanami had pushed his glass to the center of the table, refusing it as soon as it was set in front of him.  “I have to be home by eight” 

“Eight?” Takuma gasped incredulously at his early retirement.  “But Gojo’s car won’t be here till eleven-” 

“Dibs” (y/n) plucks the extra shot off the counter, tapping it once against the table before throwing it back with ease.  

The other two are left to stare at her in shock, neither knowing how to react.  She’s quick to chase it down with her own shot in rapid succession, not a single flinch or twitch from the burning sensation left in her throat.  Nanami and Takuma share a quick glance, but it doesn’t go unnoticed by the young Gojo.

“What?” She asks innocently, propping her elbow on the table to rest her chin in her hand.  “Been a long week, no?” 

“It’s just… Satoru doesn’t drink” Nanami shrugs at the simple statement, leaning back against his chair.

(y/n) pauses, her brow twitching in the smallest of movements.

Even without him around, she was being compared to him.  And hearing it come from Nanami, whom she’d spent years looking up to, snapped her final straw.

“Right…” She drawls the word out slowly, and Nanami waits all too patiently for whatever she had to say next.  “Well since it is our first outing, let’s establish this once and for all, shall we?” 

And then she grins, which sends warning flags up in Takuma’s mind when she leaves the table and approaches the bar.  He turns back to Nanami with his worry evident on his face.

“That’s not good,” He says in a hushed voice.  “I’ve only ever seen her smile like that when exorcizing curses” 

Nanami only chuckles half heartedly, more than familiar with the way the Gojo siblings’ shared wicked grin.

Ino’s not so amused, but he does his best to get excited when (y/n) comes back with a stronger drink and another round of shots for the three of them.  Nanami refuses this one as well, and this time they let it sit on the center of the table unclaimed.

To his surprise, she taps her shot glass against Ino’s when he picks it up, eyeing the auburn liquid with uncertainty.  This would be his second shot in the span of only ten minutes, and it would be her third.  There had to be some ploy behind it, right? 

“Whatever it takes to prove to you both I’m not my brother, name it,” (y/n) announces before throwing back the shot.  “It can be like a game!” She decides, eyes lighting up with the idea.  If she notices the way Nanami and Ino seem unsure and uncomfortable with the sudden swing in behavior, she doesn’t show it.

“A drinking game?” Ino asks, not quite following her train of thought.

“Sure,” She nods at him.  “Like a truth or drink sort of thing? That works” 

“I’ve got one, then,” Nanami leans back onto the table, suddenly joining the conversation.  His pupils seem surprised, but both excited in their own way to have him participate  “That Grade Two at the playground, last week, did you lie in your paperwork?” 

A more authentic looking beam stretches over (y/n’s) face, and she laughs as she considers taking a drink, but she supposes he’d have his answer if she did, so she might as well fess up.

“About the swingset being torn apart?” She asks with a raised brow.  “Yes, I lied about that” 

“You lied in your report?” Ino gasps in shock.  “What’d you say?” 

“She claimed the swings had been torn away from their posts before she arrived on the scene” Nanami explained with a huff.

That earned another gasp from Ino before he turned back to (y/n) with wide eyes and an awkward sort of smile, like he was excited to have caught her in something, even though she’d admitted to it herself.

“You chopped down a children’s playground?” 

“It was a swingset,” She corrected.  “And it’s structural integrity was fine.  The city could afford to replace the swing itself.  It’s practically just rope” 

Nanami shakes his head, although he’d already had an inkling her report on that assignment was less than truthful.  He had stopped by to take account of the damage done, and it seemed to him like the scraped metal of the playset’s structure could have only been chinked up by a large blade.  Like an axe.

A few more random questions come up between the two, most of them work related.  The questions are all over the place however, with Nanami trying to get her to admit to more discrepancies in her paperwork, and Ino trying to learn anything and everything he could.  So she never quite knew what was going to be asked of her.

More often than not, Nanami’s questions led to her drinking.  Whereas Ino’s…

“Do you have any tattoos?” 

She wants to laugh, and ask him if he’s sure that’s what he wants to know.  But Nanami’s already got her another two drinks down, so she finds herself lifting up the hem of her shirt, just enough to put her hip bone on display, earning shocked looks from both men as they stared holes into the ink on her skin.

“When did you get that?” Nanami asks, his eyebrows nearly to his hairline when (y/n) looks up at him with a lazy smirk.

“I was sixteen, and you weren’t around at the time” She states matter-of-factly.

Ino’s laughing, and maybe cheering as he throws back the rest of his drink and makes his way to the bar for another.  (y/n) wouldn’t admit that she was having a good time, but it was quite entertaining to watch their reactions.

“That’s enough insight for tonight” Nanami sighs before getting up from his seat.  (y/n) watches as he lifts his jacket from the back of his chair, loosely shrugging it on.  A small knot forms between her brows.

“You’re actually gonna leave?” She asks, and if he didn’t know any better, Nanami might think she’s frowning because she’s disappointed to see him leave.  

“I’ve already stayed later than I planned,” He answers dryly.  “But you should stay, Ino too,” He adds, nodding to the sorcerer at the bar desperately trying to get the bartender’s attention.  “Make your brother pick up the tab” 

“He said it was on you” (y/n) replies with a shrug, before taking a sip of her drink.  

Nanami rolled his eyes as he turned to go, grumbling something about how a Gojo could be trying to pass off the bill.  (y/n’s) laughing as he leaves, and he’s almost compelled to stay, just for the sake of watching her open up more than he’d seen in years, but he supposes he’s not the one who needs that tonight.

Ino’s surprised when he comes back to the table with a fresh drink and hand, only to find Nanami missing.  He glances at the empty seat with a furrowed brow before turning to (y/n), who shrugs.

“Guess he wasn’t kidding about turning in early” She muses, pushing the ice in her glass with her straw.  Ino seems to pout at that.

“Too bad, I thought we were having a good time” He says as he takes his seat across from her.

(y/n) regards him with a slight tilt of her head, as if he were a stranger she were noticing for the first time.  As always, his mask sat on top of his head, posed as a beanie, and as he turned away to glance across the crowded bar, she’d never noticed before, but the curve of his cheekbones were defined.  Sharp, even.  Her gaze continued to linger, noticing the same detail about his jawline.  Had she really never noticed before, or was the dim lighting doing him a favor by putting his facial features on display? 

“Is this your idea of a good time?” She asks suddenly, and his attention is swiveling back to her.  Even with the lights shifting across his face, the defined features still stuck out to her.  “Going out somewhere crowded and noisy?” 

Ino laughs at that, every part of his expression lighting up with his delight, and once again (y/n) wonders if someone’s purposefully messing with the lights to put a spotlight on him.

Her brother’s words from their last phone call start to penetrate her thoughts against her will.  She tries to shake them off, but it’s hard when his brown eyes gleam like honey when he looks at her.

“Well, drinks are a pretty important part.  This wouldn’t be fun without ‘em,” He says, and she shrugs in non-committed agreement.  “But it is fun.  I’m having fun, at least”

“It’s not…” She starts to tell him this wasn’t her ideal night out.  In actuality, she was more of a stay in and relax on the weekend kind of person.  Satoru did enough partying in his younger years to turn her off from it early on.  But Ino perks up as he awaits her response, and it didn’t feel right to tell him the full truth.  So she changes direction and tells him a half-lie.  “It’s not terrible” She finishes.

He’s grinning again, as though she’d just told him she was having the time of her life, and she can’t help the confused knot in her brow.  Could he really be so pleased over simply having a few drinks together? 

“I knew you’d have a good time if you just came!” He cheered, reaching his glass across the table to tap it against hers.  “You should’ve just accepted the invitation months ago” 

She takes a long drink, stalling to try and find the right thing to say.  She doesn’t want Ino to get the wrong idea, she’s not about to make this a regular thing.  No, this was a one time occurrence.  She stood by what she said all those months ago.  It was silly to make friends in this line of work.  She’d witnessed first hand, one too many times, just what companionship could cost.  One night out couldn’t possibly change that.

Something twists in her chest before she can remind him of that, and it prevents her from saying anything of the sort.  Instead, she changes the subject.

“Can I ask you a truth or drink question, now?” She leans forward in her seat a bit, resting her elbow on the table once more as she studies his eager expression.

“Shoot!” He agreed excitedly, and she can’t help the short laugh that escapes her.  She blames the alcohol.

“How do you stay so positive all the time?” She asks the question that had been nagging at her for longer than just the past couple hours.  He shakes his head slightly, not quite following the meaning of her question.  “Even on assignments, and doing your reports, you’re always…” She wiggles her fingers in front of her as she tries to find the right word to explain it.

Ino chuckles, before full on laughter takes over and his shoulders are shaking as he grins from ear to ear, almost proving her point before he could actually answer.

“I love what I do?” He answers like it’s a question, like he’s unsure if that’s what she’s even looking for.  “I’ve been working towards one goal my entire life, I might as well enjoy it, right?” 

She’s stunned silent for a minute.  There was a time where she would’ve said the same thing, when she was young and naive and thought her and her brother would take the jujutsu world by storm, side by side.  Before she realized that her entire life would be spent under the shadow cast by him owning the family name almost all for himself.  It was a large, infinite shadow.  And the longer she’d lived in it, the more her joy for her work turned into a necessity.  Until now, she hadn’t even realized just how much she’d come to despise every step it took to move forward in jujutsu society.

Ino took her silence to mean she was thinking too deeply about what he’d said, and a question of his own came to mind.

“Do you not enjoy it?” 

Her gaze rises from where she’d zoned out looking at her dwindling drink, finding Ino across from her looking almost concerned.  The longer she didn’t respond, the more his expression reminded her of the night he’d found her injured.

She clears her throat before opting out of answering, instead drinking down the last of the contents in her glass.  He raises a brow at her choice.

“Did you not want to tell me your answer, or did you not know the answer?” He asks.

“Is that another question?” She asks, a small smirk forming on her lips.  “Because I’ll have to order another drink” 

Ino laughs, and despite her trying not to, she can’t help but laugh with him.

“Another round?” He asks, and she thinks about it for a minute, before nodding, and getting up from her seat.  To her surprise, he follows her up to the bar, even though there was still a good quarter of his drink left.  She doesn’t comment on it.

They have to squeeze between bodies to stake a place at the bar, the two bartenders already quite busy with the amount of people waving at them for their attention.  It’s bound to take more than a couple minutes before they would get to place their order.

“Guess everyone had a rough week” (y/n) mumbles absentmindedly, and Ino glances down at her.

This wasn’t the first time he’d taken notice of her height- or lack thereof- but with having her so close she was nearly pressed into his side, it was hard not to notice.  About a head shorter than him, he had to tilt his head down to properly look at her, which he was only doing now because the alcohol buzzing in his system lifted the barriers of his anxiety.  Had he been sober, he’d have been far too weak to stare at her so blatantly.

Luckily due to the drinks they’d both had, (y/n) didn’t realize he was staring at her for a whole minute or so.  She’d been too focused on trying to catch eyes with one of the bartender’s to feel his eyes on her.  Even without being caught, he felt a flush creeping up his neck.

In another life, or hell, another universe, Ino wonders if things could have been different between them.  If she would’ve been less closed off, or maybe he could’ve been more laid back and met her level of reserved.  He wonders if they would’ve been closer friends, or maybe even something more than that.

Truthfully, when they’d first met, he’d instantly had a bit of a crush on her.  He’d never met the younger Gojo before the day he started working with Nanami on his promotion, but as soon as he’d laid eyes on her, he thought his heart was going to go into cardiac arrest and he’d die right there.  She was quiet, but he could tell behind her calculating expression that she was thoughtful, and cunning.  And so, so beautiful, that he’d stuttered all the way through introducing himself, even his own name he’d struggled to get out.  Looking back on it, he still felt embarrassed, but he was sure she’d long forgotten the interaction.  It wasn’t long after their meeting that she’d made her disinterest in him explicitly clear, and the sparks of feelings she’d ignited in him were stomped out into ash.

He felt like a fool for feeling that spark ignite again just standing beside her in this congested bar, but he couldn’t be imagining that things were different tonight, right? He was sure that she was opening up more of herself than he’d ever seen before, and maybe the alcohol played a part in that, but either way, he couldn’t get enough of it.  She was giving him crumbs of her life- an impulsive tattoo, her hopes to have a pet some day, a few reckless acts on assignments- and he was eating it all up with gratitude.  He couldn’t help but want to learn more, wanting to press further until she couldn’t possibly deny that she enjoyed confiding in him as much as he enjoyed being in her company.

He knows he can’t be imagining things, because when she finally feels his stare and looks up at him, she doesn’t scowl, or spit out some cruel comment about it.  Her brows twitch slightly, drawing together in a confused expression when he doesn’t immediately look away like she would’ve expected.  He’s close enough that he can see the way a ghost of a smile hovers at the corners of her lips, and the way her cheeks warm up with color.  It makes that microscopic spark of old feeling in his chest burn a little brighter.

A nervous laugh falls from her lips, and it’s so uncharacteristically cute that he’s smiling now, and he feels like an absolute dope for staring at her and smiling like an idiot, but it can’t be helped.  He can’t be helped.

“What?” She asks, breathless and curious, her eyes shifting between his as though trying to find the source of this behavior, but instead she only finds warm pools of brown that almost resemble the rum and cokes she’s been enjoying all night.

And then all at once it’s almost too much.  She’s suddenly aware of how close she is to him, their arms brushing together, or if he tilted his head just a little further down he could easily push his nose against hers and-

Her eyes widen at the derailing of her train of thought, the soft expression of surprise on her face more recognizable than she would’ve liked, and she could tell that it doesn’t go unnoticed by Ino, as he’s now regarding her with intrigue, wondering what was going through her mind.

The idea of him knowing she’d nearly gotten lost in thought at the idea of kissing him made her chest ache, and she badly wanted to tear her gaze away from his, lean over the bar and demand to be serviced so they could get away from the crowded space as quickly as possible.

What an idiotic, drunken thought to have.  Kissing a colleague, how much more foolish could she possibly be? She tries to shake it off as a pesky intrusive thought.  Nothing more than the alcohol pressuring her into making a reckless decision.

But she’s frozen before him, her eyes locked on his like she was stuck in a trance, trapped by her own nerves.  The eye contact was going to kill her, especially with how soft his gaze was.  It wasn’t like anything she was used to.  It wasn’t setting her on fire from it’s heat.  The way he looked at her made her feel like she’d just cozied up in front of a fireplace after a cold day.  It almost scared her how warm it made her chest feel.

She’s opening her mouth before she even settled on what she needed to say.

“Takuma, we should probably get go-” 

She’s interrupted before she could finish telling him they needed to leave.  It almost saves her, seeing as she didn’t have a very decent excuse as to why they needed to end the night early, but there’s little time for relief when the unwelcome hand of a stranger settles on her waist, stealing her attention away from Ino’s.

“You waitin’ for a drink, sweetheart?” 

She vaguely registers that the stranger with the breath that reeked of booze was speaking to her, before she’s reacting on instinct.

The grabby hand on her hip is pried off with ease, her strength easily overpowering his in less than a second.  No amount of alcohol would be enough to hinder her reflexes.  The stranger cries out in shock and pain as she twists his arm back behind him, likely spraining his shoulder with how fast she pushes it into an uncomfortable position.  The sly expression on the man’s face is contorted into one of great pain, and only when he begins to cry out for her to stop does she stop pushing.  Her desire to feel the bone snap under her strength starts to melt away when she sees tears in his eyes.

“You’re lucky I didn’t break your hands so you’d learn to keep your mitts to yourself” She mutters, releasing him with a slight shove.  The drunken stranger stumbles backwards, still sniffling and gawking in shock from the whole ordeal.

The woman he’d tried to pick up is still scowling, and she looks like she’s still undecided in letting him go, the way her lip curls into a snarl and her eyes seem to pierce right through his soul.  The man beside her looks no different, rage evident in the way his brows furrow and his jaw is clenched, teeth grinding together roughly.  He has one hand on the edge of the bar, as close to where she stands as he could get without pushing himself against her completely.  His knuckles are paling by the second, gripping so hard one could almost assume he was about to rip a chunk of oak clean out of the counter.  His other hand is on his head, roughly grabbing at the edge of his hat.  

Even the non-sorcerer that was this stranger got a bad feeling emanating from the two, and he scurried off without another word.  (y/n’s) eyes rolled dramatically at the pathetic display, but as she turned back to Ino, she could almost laugh at the sight of him ready to pull his mask over his face.

“Are you alright?” He asks, and there’s not a crack in his expression as he glances over her with concern pouring out of every pore.  

He loses his grip on the bar, hand hovering over her shoulder but not quite touching her, not knowing if physical contact would be a comfort right now.  It’s odd, feeling like for once she was the Gojo with the shield of Infinity.

“I’m fine,” She tells him, and she means it, but she can tell he’s not so convinced.  “But just out of curiosity, what was your plan here?” She asks, cracking a smile as she flicks the edge of his mask, still bunched up at the top of his head.

“I- I don’t know,” Ino answers sheepishly.  “If he didn’t leave you alone I guess I was just gonna wing it” He admits.

She regards him for a moment, letting the answer sink in.  Her smile widens a bit when she laughs softly, almost fondly, as she really thinks about it.  She softens again, just like she had moments ago, before the creep ruined it.

“Well, for what it’s-” 

“Hey, you two need to leave,” 

The pair or sorcerers do a double take when one of the bartenders finally gives them their attention, but not for the reason they’d wanted.

“What?” (y/n) asks, certain they had the wrong patrons.

“We weren’t doing anything?” Ino’s brows furrow as the bartender looks them both up and down.

“I don’t care for the details.  We can’t have a commotion like that in the bar.  If you’re going to cause trouble, do it somewhere else” 

“But the guy was the one who-!” 

Before Ino could finish his explanation, the bartender was shoving a finger towards the door, an expectant look on their face that told them not to argue any further, unless they wanted to cause more trouble.

“Whatever,” (y/n) huffs.  “This bar’s a dump anyways” 

And before the bartender could react, she was grabbing Ino by the arm and pulling him away from the bar.  She was on a mission for the door, eager to leave a place if she wasn’t wanted.  All Ino could do was silently follow along, his mind barely processing the whole ordeal until they were outside, where it was significantly quieter.

It was darker than he’d expected, although he was well aware of the time, it was a shock to be out on the dark sidewalk with the stars on full display above them.  He glances up at the sky to admire them for a moment, until realization strikes him and he’s whirling around to look at her again.

“What about our tab?” 

(y/n) blinks back at him, her expression unwavering.

“Guess we won’t be welcomed back, either” She says, and Ino stares at her in shock as he processes the statement.

“Well then we better get moving” 

(y/n) hadn’t intended to end up at another bar.  In fact, before the handsy stranger made things weird, she’d been looking for an excuse to end the night early.  However, her words betrayed her when Takuma suggested another little dive not far down the street, and that’s where she found herself now.

This place wasn’t as crowded as the last, so she felt comfortable walking in and claiming a small corner booth.  By the time someone came by for their order, she’d already stretched out across the length of the leather cushion, back pressed to the window comfortably.  Ino had chuckled at how cozy she’d made herself, but didn’t comment on it.

Once their first round- at this establishment- of drinks came around, he’d excitedly started up their previous game again.

“Would you have really broken that guy’s hands?” He asks, and (y/n) doesn’t even lift her drink to pretend she wouldn’t answer.

“Without a doubt,” She hums, spinning the ice in her glass with her straw.  “Sometimes lessons have to be learned the hard way, right?” She asks him with a mischievous grin that tells him she might’ve done worse had the moment felt right.  “My turn?” She asks, and he nods, crossing his arms over the table as he gave her his undivided attention.  “Which little beast of yours would you have summoned?” 

“Kaichi” 

He answers with so much bluntness she raises her brows at him, surprised by his complete lack of thought before speaking.  She hums, nodding her head in quiet agreement that impaling the stranger with one of those horns would have been the best method of defense.

“Has that… happened before?” 

“The random guy hitting on me part? Or the part where I threatened a man’s hands?” She asks, and Ino doesn’t seem to have the proper clarification for her question, so she shrugs, and doesn’t drink to the question.

“No, that’s never happened before” 

She takes a few sips after she’s answered, hoping to keep up the buzz she had going.  Ino’s fingers tap rhythmically against the table as he processes her answer.  He seems unaffected at first, but slowly, confusion begins to seep into his features.

“Wait, so you’re saying no one’s ever hit on you, either?” 

“You already asked that one”

“Well then I’m asking again” 

(y/n) begins to pull her glass towards her, ready to take another drink, but maybe the alcohol gets on top of her a bit as she answers the question before she could evade it.

“No, I’ve never been hit on.  I don’t think, anyways.  But I think I’d probably know if I was” 

It comes out like word vomit, babbled out like her thoughts were on a direct pipeline to being voiced.  She doesn’t mean to share so much, but she finishes with a shrug of her shoulders, and raises her glass to sip some more.

“You really never go out, huh?” He asks, taking a drink as well.

“What, getting hit on is the true price you pay for going out?” She asks with a short laugh, not following the connection between the two.  Ino nods his head from side to side, indecisive in his response.

“Not always, just, y’know, figured it’d happen a lot if you didn’t stay in all the time”

By the time he realizes the implications of that statement, it’s already too late.  Ino nearly chokes on his drink when (y/n) tilts her head at him, realization slowly flickering over her features.

“You’re saying people would hit on me a lot if I went out more?” She asks skeptically.

He considers pulling his mask over his face in order to conceal the growing heat in his cheeks.  Not that it would help, the damage had already been done with his loud mouth.

“I didn’t mean it like that-” 

“Well how did you mean it then?” She asks, suddenly swiveling her legs to sit upright against the table, plopping her chin in her hands to study him properly.  

She always had a way of looking at him with calculation in her eyes, as if she was sizing him up like a curse.  Right now, he doesn’t know what to make of the way she stares at him.  There’s that familiar look in her eyes that makes him wonder just what it is she’s looking for, but the softness in her smile was unfamiliar territory, and Ino didn’t have the slightest clue of what to make of it. Was it amusement? Did she take sick joy in watching him fluster and stutter? Or could it be the alcohol to blame? Perhaps it was loosening her up, and any semblance of delight was merely the booze entertaining her.  The most outlandish reason would have been fondness, but there simply wasn’t a chance in the freezing depths of hell that she was actually growing fond of his company, was there?

“I just meant, y’know,” He gestures his hand towards her, pathetically trying to explain his thought process.  She shakes her head in a small motion, not understanding his poor attempt at reason in the slightest.  “Like, you… you’re… you know”

Ino would really rather be anywhere else right now, preferably somewhere that wasn’t so hot his collar was sticking to his neck and his throat was closing up, but then (y/n) begins to laugh, and he huffs out a sigh in aggravation, and ultimately decides to take a long drink.

“Fair enough,” She muses at his choice.  “It’s not a terrible assumption to make, I suppose.  My brother is acquainted with every eligible man and woman in the city, after all” She says, only half joking.  Ino seems to find a great deal of amusement in that, grinning and laughing, although he can’t say he’s that surprised.

“For the record, I wasn’t comparing you to him in that assumption,” He says.  “I just figured you’d… attract your own attention” He says.

There’s an undeniable flutter in her chest, and she wished she could say she hated the way it spread a tingle of warmth throughout her entire body.  It wasn’t like she’d never received that sort of attention from others, but it had been so long since she entertained the idea that it was starting to feel a little foreign.  And having Ino of all people assume that there were a line of suitors out the door waiting for her hand had her insides turning with the near unfamiliar sensation of butterflies.

Her silence is making him anxious, his fingers tapping against the table no longer playing a steady beat.  They mimicked the rapid increase in his heartbeat.  Wild and unsteady and with no sign of relaxing.

“That so?” When she finally does speak it’s soft, nearly a whisper, as if she didn’t quite believe him.  “Are you an expert in that field, then?” 

She catches the way his eyes land on his drink, which was now empty, so there wasn’t exactly an out for the question.  When his gaze shifts back up to hers, he finds she hasn’t looked away from him yet.

“What field?” He plays dumb, and her smile curls into a slight smirk.

“Flirting, courting, whatever you want to call it” (y/n) answers with ease, fiddling with the straw in her drink as she impatiently waits for his answer.  He eyes his empty glass once more.

“No, I’m no expert,” He huffs, a deep frown on his face for having to admit something so embarrassing.  “You timed that on purpose” 

“I did not!” She argues, but her nervous laughter gives her away.  She’s not as good at lying when she’s drunk apparently, and he might just have to store that information for later.

“My drink was empty! That was a trap!” 

She has to cover her mouth to try and suppress the giggles coming out of her uncontrollably.  He’s still embarrassed, but her laughter was contagious.  Anyone passing by or glancing over at the loud laughter pouring out of their booth would assume they were having nothing but a good time.  And for a few seconds at a time, Ino could pretend they were, too.

To keep things fair, (y/n) finishes the last few sips of her drink, before sliding both glasses to the end of the table.

“Alright, your turn then,” She says, a small hiccup punctuating the offer.  “You must have something good saved up your sleeve?” 

He thinks about it for a moment, folding his arms over the table and subconsciously leaning over it to get closer to her.  With his eyes wandering the bar as he racks his brain for a good question she couldn’t avoid answering, she was able to properly gaze at him without getting caught.  Just like at the previous bar, she gets a little lost in thought as she maps out every feature of his face.  There was nothing forgettable about Takuma Ino, but she found herself trying to commit it all to memory anyways.

That flutter in her chest hadn’t gone away, and the longer it prevailed the more she began to sink into the feeling.  It’s relaxing, the way time slows down, and the buzz sends goosebumps prickling up her arms.  She would have never thought she could find this much comfort in this setting, but to her, this booth was the only thing in her world.

“Would you do this again?” He finally settles on a question, and it’s clear that it’s not what she expected, judging by the way her eyes slightly widen from being caught off guard.

Her mouth opens, but nothing comes out right away.  It’s as though he’d wiped her mind completely blank, not even a weak excuse coming to mind.  The fuzzy feeling in her chest turns to static, sharp and cold before disappearing completely, leaving behind nothing but an emptiness that stings as it lingers.  Her smile slowly falls as reality begins to seep back into their booth, reminding her of why she’d kept him beyond arm’s length all this time.

Deep down, she wonders if she always knew this would happen.  She wondered if self preservation took over as soon as she met him because if it hadn’t, she would’ve let him get too close a long, long time ago.  Guilt claws it’s way up from her gut to her throat, strangling her to keep her from saying the wrong thing first.

Ino’s sure he already has his answer when she doesn’t say anything right away.  It’s written all over her face, the way she winces, and shuffles uncomfortably in her seat.  Disappointment doesn’t begin to cover what he feels as he looks away from her, trying and failing to keep his face neutral.

“Got it” He mutters, catching the eye of a passing server and signaling for the check.  (y/n) frowns.

“Takuma, I…” She starts, but her throat still burns, and she struggles to find the right thing to say that won’t make things worse.  “I tried to tell you that tonight was just-” 

“I know,” He replies.  It makes her blood run cold, the way his voice lacks it’s usual chipper tone.  Now it holds nothing.  He’s so painfully emotionless that she almost wishes he would just get angry with her.  “You made that clear” 

They’re completely silent when a server comes back with the check, the tension turning awkward as soon as another person enters their bubble.  They must pick up on it, because they’re quick to bid them a good night before rushing away.

(y/n) drops the money on the table, and Ino’s out of his seat and headed for the door before she could even stand.  She huffs as she follows after him, although he stops just outside the door.  His heart was too good to leave her completely stranded, even though he wasn’t sure he could take another minute of being around her.

“Takuma, look, it’s not like it’s personal-” 

He scoffs, his hands in his pockets as he looks down at her.  She’s shocked to see the glare on his features, and if he wasn’t so irritated, he might’ve noticed the hurt on her face from the sharp look.

“If you tell me one more time just how not personal it is, I think I’m going to scream, (y/n),” He snaps, and in all the times she’s had this conversation with him and butted heads, she’s never heard him talk like that.  All she can do is stand there pathetically and accept it.  “Because it’s bullshit.  You know it, I know it, shit, Nanami knows it” 

“It’s not,” She mumbles, shaking her head.  “It’s not bullshit, I just-” 

“You don’t care about anything but becoming Grade One, I know,” He finishes the statement for it.  “You don’t care about drinks, and you don’t care about me.  Trust me, I remember,” 

A pout settles on her lips, and for the first time in a long time, she wants to cry.

“You know I actually-” Ino pauses to let out a humorless laugh, eyes fleeting across the busy streets as he finds twisted amusement in the way he’d fallen for this whole charade.  “I actually thought you were having a good time, I actually, stupidly believed that maybe you-” He stops again, not wanting to sound more idiotic than he already did.  

After tonight, as soon as they part ways, things would go back to the way they were, and she’d probably pretend nothing ever happened.  He’s not sure he was going to be able to survive that, even after all of this time accepting that she had no interest in him.  Ino doesn’t think he could go back to the way things were.

But fuck it, if this was going to be the last time she talked to him, he wasn’t going to lay back and take it.  He was going to put all the cards on the table.

“You know I care about you, don’t you? You have to know that.  Even if you can’t be friends or partners you- you have to know that.  You’re not dumb, (y/n), so don’t act like it,” 

She has to curl her hands into fists at her sides to keep control of the tears in her eyes.  She couldn’t dare let them spill over.

“But you’re so so stubborn, I’ve never met anyone like you,” He huffs, and the smile on his face is conflicting with the way he spits the words out like poison.  “You’re nothing like Satoru.  I’ve never thought so.  All these walls you put up to keep people from getting close to you so you don’t happen to stumble on the same path he did- because that’s what it’s all about, isn’t it? You’d rather shelter yourself from everything than risk getting a little hurt?” 

Her bottom lip wobbles with emotion, and she turns away so she doesn't have to look at him.  She wished some mysterious force would suck her away from this moment and land her in the safety of her bed where she never had to face the consequences of her actions.  It was childish, but she couldn’t bear to argue with him right now.

“You’re drunk” She mumbles to the sidewalk.

“You’re drunk,” He repeats incredulously, his hands flying outward.  “You think I don’t know you because you won’t, just once, let someone get close to you,” He rants, “But you know what the worst part is, (y/n)? You’re only going to get hurt anyways.  And you have,” He gestures to her shoulder, making her defensively hold a hand over where the scars are hidden beneath her clothes.  Her brows furrow as she opens her mouth to argue, but he beats her to it.  “And then- while I was worried about you, because damn it there was so much blood, I thought you might die, you took it out on me! You got mad at me and pushed me away, again.  Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?” 

It’s only when his rant starts to die down that he realizes she’s barely looking at him because her eyes are glossy, and he knows damn well that she’s fighting every urge to cry.  He doesn’t know if she’s emotionally on edge because of him, or the alcohol making her sensitive, but either way, he sighs in defeat, and his shoulders slump from the weight of all of the thoughts he’d been carrying for the last few months.

“I- I know that you care,” She says weakly, her voice more strained than she would have liked.  “I just don’t get it, okay? It doesn’t make sense.  You don’t make sense.  I don’t- I- I can’t-” Her stutters come out in a whimper and she’s looking away again, desperately trying to compose herself before she could do something embarrassing.  

There were still people out and about even this late into the night, more than enough people to overhear their argument in the middle of the sidewalk.  Normally, she’d call her brother’s driver and leave without putting up with this argument.  But she can’t bring herself to do such a thing right now.  Not with the way he’s looking at her like she just destroyed the moon and all of it’s stars.

“My whole life has been wasted trying to prove something that I- that just isn’t possible,” 

The admission comes out in a shaky whisper.  She’s never voiced it before, but now is as good a time as any of he’s really so desperate to understand why she was wired this way.

“I don’t even understand why I was born, Takuma.  My parents had no interest in me.  They already had Satoru.  For as long as I could remember, I was only around to follow behind my big brother while the entire world bent over backwards to give him everything.  Attention, money, fame, candy apples- that’s what’s bullshit,” It comes out bitter and nasty, her nose wrinkling as she thinks back to every event she was forced to dress up and go to, only to be ignored, cast aside, and forgotten about completely while Satoru skipped around and received everything he could ever want.  “And I just can’t- can’t understand what anyone could ever want from me, I have nothing,” 

She hadn’t noticed the tears leaking from her eyes until there’s a pair of warm hands cupping her face, thumbs gently pushing them away.  She doesn’t want to look at him, not with all of the shame she felt just being comforted by him, but a stronger part of her can’t help but stare at him.  She hadn’t expected such sudden gentleness from him, and she hadn’t realized just how long it had been since someone had last comforted her.  When was the last time someone wiped her tears? Or touched her so softly that even in the frigid evening brought warmth to her skin? 

“Explain it to me,” She pleas quietly.  “Why- why would you possibly want to be around me?” 

Her eyes shift between his, but he’s too focused on clearing away each tear rolling down her cheeks.  She sniffles, and her hands reach up to grab his wrists.  Ino thinks she might yank him away, but she doesn’t.  She simply stands there with a solid grip on him.

“You are drunk,” He says quietly, just a hint of amusement in his eyes as he finally meets her sorrowful gaze.  “Don’t cry, (y/n), I didn’t mean to make you cry,” 

But it’s too late, she can’t stop the tears from streaming down her face now.

“I told you, I care about you, we’re partners, yeah?” He offers, but her expression is unrelenting.  “Have you considered maybe I don’t want you to get hurt, either?” 

Tears stick to her lashes when she blinks, and she has to bite down on her cheek to keep her lips from trembling.  He’s so close that he’d be sure to notice, but he also notices the clench in her jaw.

Every instinct she’d trained herself on is telling her to push him away.  Even if it meant physically shoving him off of her.  He’s too close in every sense of the word, breaching every wall she’d built brick by brick.

But something else nags at her, something far more sinister and cruel.  It pushes her forward, and has her clenching her hands around his wrists tighter as she stands before him in all of her pathetic glory.  Tears still pouring down her cheeks and her lower lip still wobbling, she swallows her pride.

“I’m sorry,” 

It’s quiet, but not because it’s ingenuine.  In fact it’s the opposite.  With a raw throat came a strained voice, so full of emotion she couldn’t possibly raise her voice any louder than the murmur that came out.

Ino blinks, his eyes widening in the slightest as he stares back at her in shock.  The entire night had been full of surprises, but now it had certainly taken a turn and set him on a path where he could see no clear ending.

“Takuma, I’m- I’m so sorry,” She continues, eyes glossing over again.  “I shouldn’t have pushed you away, I shouldn’t have said all those terrible things to you I- I didn’t mean any of it,” 

She’s shaking her head so rapidly it makes her a bit dizzy with the alcohol still in her system, but she doesn’t care if she sways a little.  She only wants to convey to him just how serious she was, and how important it was to her that he understood that.

“I think… I think you’re one of the greatest people I’ve ever met,” She continues, and slowly, the tears come to a stop.  “I’ve never known anyone as… as caring as you,” 

Her voice softens, a nervous shyness creeping in for admitting something so vulnerable.  But she wasn’t sure if she’d ever work up the courage to say something like this to him again, so it was now or never.

“And I know you’d never hurt me, b-because I’m… I’m the one who was hurting you,” He opens his mouth, likely to argue with that statement, but she was quick to keep going before he got the chance to interrupt.  “But I don’t think you understand that… that losing you would mean hurting me, too” She finishes, brows pinched together as they both sit for a moment to process it all.

Ino sighs, his thumbs wiping away the last of her tears, yet he keeps his hands cupped around her face.  A part of him was paranoid that if he let her go now, she might slip away once and for all.  The other, louder part knew that with the grip she had on his arms, neither one of them were going anywhere.

And so he tells her just that.

“I’m not going anywhere,” He assures her, a confident smile stretching across his face.  “You’re not losin’ me.  Promise” 

She snorts at that, the tiniest of laughs escaping her in a mere breath.

“You can’t promise something like that,” She scolds.  “In this line of-” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Ino shakes his head dismissively.  “Too late.  Already promised.  So it’s set in stone,” 

She stares up at him with wide eyes, so lost in trying to understand him in his entirety that she doesn’t even know what to say next.  Had he forgiven her so easily? How could he say such a thing with as much assurance as he did? 

“As long as you can promise to drop the tough guy act and just… be the tough guy you already are,” He says, only half kidding, “Then I can promise that I’m not leaving you” He offers, tilting his head to the side as he gazes down at her fondly, admiring the way the corners of her lips begin to twitch into a smile.

“Okay,” She whispers, so quiet he only knew she said it from the way her lips moved around the word.  “I promise” ___

From that day forward, (y/n) worked more and more to loosen up around him.  It wasn’t easy at first, and the first day was the hardest.  The Monday back at work was a bit awkward, after she’d spent an entire weekend nursing a hangover, with an overbearing brother pestering her for the details.  Ino had brought her and Nanami coffee that first morning, and she’d made an effort to eat her lunch with him every day that week.

Then the week after that she began to accompany him on his coffee runs as well, spending the extra time chatting mindlessly and getting to know one another better.

A few weeks after that the two of them went out for drinks one evening, until that too became a part of the routine.  Once a month or so they’d go out to any new bar Ino could find and waste away as much of an evening as they could.

Slowly but surely, partnership grew into genuine friendship- something (y/n) hadn’t felt for a long, long time.  And Ino made sure to never let her forget it.  Whether it was remembering her favorite drink order, or watching an entire series she’d said she liked one time, he took her companionship seriously.  The more she got to know him, the harder he made it not to fall for him.

But, god, was falling for him one of the easiest things that’s ever come to her in this life.  It was unavoidable, unstoppable, uncontrollable.  No matter how much she tried to fight it, the way her heart raced whenever he was around was distinct to feelings only he could spark.  And the way her eyes searched for him first in a crowd was more than enough proof that her fondness for him had grown well past platonic.

It might have been silly to be surprised by her feelings when she’d finally realized that’s what the swell in her chest was all about.  After the incident that was their drunken night out where she’d torn herself apart at the seams before him- they don’t talk about that night, and she can’t help but wonder if he’s doing it out of favor for her, or if he’s just as embarrassed about it as she was- she found herself getting lost when thinking about him more often.

It ranged anywhere from how his eyes were their prettiest when they would leave Jujutsu Tech in the early evening.  With the sun low in the sky, rays of light caught them just right and made them appear to be the most brilliant, shining amber she’s ever seen.  

Satoru loved to brag about his baby blues to anyone who would listen, throwing his shades off with dramatic flare as he’d bat his eyelashes at unsuspecting victims.  Ever so full of himself, he loved the attention he’d get for the outrageously bright blue hue of his eyes.  When directed at her, (y/n) tended to scoff and tell him that his Six Eyes was far more worthy of bragging about than the damn color of them.

More recently, she’d shrugged her shoulders before directing her attention elsewhere.  “I prefer brown eyes” She’d told him carelessly.  At the time he’d pouted over it, whining about how his little sister thought he was ugly.  But ever since seeing her grow closer to her partner, he had a sneaking suspicion he knew who’s brown eyes she was talking about.

As much as she indulges herself in these thoughts- wondering how soft his lips were, remembering how gentle his hands had been when he’d touched her- she knows she can’t act on them.  Not after everything she’d already put him through getting their working relationship this far.  If she were to admit to him now that she was catching romantic feelings for him, it would be humiliating.  And she was humiliated enough as it is.  So she swore to herself they would remain hidden deep, deep down, under a lock and key- with said metaphorical key being thrown into a fire and melted down into a clump of misshapen chunk metal.   Then she threw that metaphorical chunk of metal into a metaphorical ocean. ___

xoxo ~ jordie

[mindtrcks]

for tyler - maybe something about reader helping rescue him from thornhill & being the hyde’s master instead of her? love your writing style!

this is hungry work

Pairing: Tyler Galpin/Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: vague mentions of grooming/violence, smut, quite a bit of plot oops, unrealistically happy ending

Summary: You may not have a master plan or a decades long vendetta, but you do have Nathaniel Faulkner's diary, and a recurring penchant for taking wild leaps of faith.

Nathaniel Faulkner says that the Hyde is a beast lying dormant in an innocent man. Something waiting to be awakened. A creature loyally dependent on its master, subservient to its core.

Wednesday says that it’s Tyler. 

She says he’s a monster, that he killed enough people to get a taste for it, and now he’s killed his master, too. That he’s out of control and it’s only a matter of time before he does something big, before more people get hurt. She says anything he’s done before now has been a lie; he doesn’t care about you, and he never did. You were a pawn in he and Kinbott’s game, and he would've tossed you away the second you’d served your purpose. She says that he isn't the boy you thought, and he isn't to be trusted. 

But he's sitting right in front of you, with the same puppy dog frown and furrowed brows as always. He's looking up at you with something like desperation in his eyes, and for the first time since you’ve met her, you doubt Wednesday. How could this boy—quiet and sweet and scared—be the monster she claims? How could Tyler from the coffee shop—Tyler who’s soft spoken and friends with outcasts and isn’t even screaming at Wednesday for kidnapping him—be anything but good?

You don’t doubt he’s the Hyde. If Wednesday had a vision, you’re not going to question that. But you do question whether or not she knows the whole story. 

—

You’re at Nevermore when Wednesday finally pieces it all together. She’s been expelled, taking the fall for you and anybody else who’d been in that shed with her. Weems had taken it upon herself to personally escort Wednesday to the station, but evidently, even expulsion can’t stop somebody as stubborn as her.

She texts you from Eugene’s phone, the message just a single word. Thornhill.

It’s all you need to bolt up in bed, to shove your shoes on and search blindly for your jacket. You’re not sure whether it’s wishful thinking or just plain hubris, but some part of you—the outcast that wants nothing more than to fit in, to be a part of something—thinks that if you can stop Thornhill, you can stop it all. You can keep anybody else from being killed and thwart whatever Thornhill’s plan is, and best of all, you can help Tyler in the process. 

It’s either that, or die trying. 

—

Breaking into Thornhill’s classroom is easier than expected. She doesn't leave Ophelia Hall after eight anymore; the lockdown has grown too serious, the dark too dangerous. It allieves your fear, as you creep through Nevermore’s halls, to know that her classroom will be empty when you arrive. To not be afraid of Thornhill would be stupid; if Wednesday’s right, and Thornhill’s responsible for everything, you don’t doubt she’d be willing to kill you for snooping. 

The door is locked when you reach your destination, but you waste no time in picking it. You aren’t sure how urgent this is, aren’t sure where Wednesday is or where Thornhill is or where Tyler is, and you aren’t sure what she could possibly be making him do. 

You choose not to think about it as your eyes scan the room. You head to her desk first, frantically flipping through sheets of paper, turning over folders and ransacking drawers. You move to the bookshelf when the desk proves fruitless, scanning the dust on the spines of books. Nothing sticks out; the last thing you deem to try is the filing cabinet, looming in the corner of the room. There’s only one drawer that’s open, the metal dented and bent like it’d been slammed in a rush. Your feet take you to it before your brain even has time to consciously make a decision; your hands pulling it open before you know what you’re doing. 

It’s empty, save for one thing: a leatherbound journal with the name Nathaniel Faulkner engraved on the spine. 

—

Nathaniel Faulkner says that the Hyde is a beast lying dormant in an innocent man, a creature loyally dependent on its master. 

He also says that this loyalty does not run as thick as one might think.

—

The thing is, you don’t know Tyler as well as you wish you did. You don’t get to talk as much as you’d like, or to hang out without the murders hanging over your heads. But it’s not like you’re a stranger, certainly not like Thornhill was. No, you’d go as far as to say you’re his friend, maybe among his only ones. He trusts you, and despite yourself—despite everything that he’s done—you trust him.

A Hyde’s relationship to its master is built on trust, says Faulkner.

And maybe you don’t have a master plan, or a decades long vendetta, but you do have Nathaniel Faulkner’s diary, and a recurring penchant for taking wild leaps of faith.

—

He’s in the woods outside of Nevermore when you find him, looking antsy and wrong. 

You don’t want to think about what he’s doing there, about why his fingers are curled up into fists at his side. What he’s done doesn’t matter to you; all you care about is what he will do, what choice he’ll make. You approach him carefully, not wanting to set him off, or scare him away. You can’t imagine what kind of headspace he’s in, or the things going through his mind.

It’s only been hours since you’ve last seen him, but he already looks changed. Whatever act he’d been keeping up in Xavier’s shed, in the police station, he’s dropped now. His eyes are dark and his shoulders tense, mouth curled into something cruel. You hear Wednesday’s words echo in your head—he isn’t the boy you thought, he’s a monster, he’s using you—but you try to drown them out. You know Tyler. You know the good he’s capable of. So what if he’s capable of bad, too? 

“Tyler,” you say, keeping your voice steady as you step forward. He doesn’t back up, but he does narrow his eyes, leveling you with a gaze that has you on edge, shifting on your feet, your body screaming at you to back down, turn away. 

He smiles at you; not the small, shy thing you’ve seen from across the Weathervane so many times, but something sharp around the edges, showing a few too many teeth. Have his canines always been that big? Sharp enough to pierce skin? You feel something run up your spine; a shiver or a thrill, you aren’t sure, and you don’t care enough to try and discern it. Tyler’s walking towards you, and it’s hard to care about much of anything besides him in front of you and the diary weighing heavy in your bag. “You're the one they sent to fight the big, bad wolf?” he asks, looming over you. He expects you to be scared, to run away.

But scared isn’t exactly the word you would use. “You’re not going to hurt me.”

You can see his face flicker for a moment, quick enough that it would've gone unnoticed if you hadn't been looking for it. “And why is that?” he asks, nostrils flaring as he steps impossibly closer.

You refuse to let the proximity affect you, no matter how much it's trying to.  “Because it’s pointless,” you say, chin lifting up in defiance. “You know Wednesday. She won’t let you win.”

��So I should surrender, then?” he scoffs, because he thinks those are his only two options. He thinks this is kill or be killed; keep fighting or get arrested, sent away for life. But you have another option.

“Not necessarily,” you say, as your hand snakes down to your satchel and pulls out the diary. Tyler’s eyes zero in on it instantly, lighting up with recognition, with want. “How would you like to put this whole mess behind you, Thornhill included?”

He blinks a few times before glancing back up at you, narrowing his eyes. “I can’t,” he says, baring his teeth around the words, like it physically pains him to say them.

You raise an eyebrow in challenge. “Why?”

He looks mad, now. Not the simmering anger that’s been in the air the whole time, but a lighter kind of rage that’s more akin to simple frustration. More akin to something you’ve seen on Tyler before. You never thought you’d be relieved for somebody to be mad at you. “That's not how it works.

“Because she’s taught you so much about how it works.”

“More than you possibly could,” he spits out, and it’s supposed to be an insult, but instead it’s just plain wrong. Because you have the exact same diary that she did, the exact same knowledge at your fingertips. Only, you’re willing to share your toys. 

He watches as you lift up the diary, flipping to your bookmarked page. It’s power in your palms; power over Thornhill, over Tyler. It makes you sick, a little, knowing his fate is literally in your hands. How did Thornhill ever take it? “‘I have heard of Hyde’s gaining new masters only through means of battle spoils or dark magic, but I imagine there must be one other way,’” you recite, reading off of page three of Faulkner’s section on masters, the chapter you had found the most helpful in your frantic skim-through. Tyler stares down at you with something in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. You’ll unpack it later. “‘Seeing as the decision is always ultimately the Hyde’s—whether consciously or not—if a prospective master was ready and willing, a Hyde might simply choose them.’”

“You want…” he starts, incredulous, but doesn’t finish. He just looks at you, conflicted, confused, and maybe a little bit of something else. You understand that what you’re offering is bigger than anything you’ve done with him before now. Going from sitting across from each other at the Weathervane or being present in the same car—Wednesday or Enid or even Fester always a buffer—to offering yourself up as his master is quite the leap. Still, for whatever reason, you’re hopeful. 

“Yes,” you answer, even if he technically never finished asking his question. Yes, you want to do this, yes, you’re willing to take the leap, yes to everything. 

Tyler shifts on his feet, suddenly seeming wildly uncomfortable as his eyes skirt around the treeline. He’s looking for her, you realize. He’s scared she’s there, scared she’s watching. Scared he’s in trouble. 

A gnawing pit forms in your stomach. “Tyler,” you say, and your voice draws his eyes away from the woods. “I’m offering. All you have to do is make the choice, and all this goes away.”

It sounds simpler than it is. There will be things to do, after. Strings to tie, messes to clean. But right now, all you need is to get Tyler away from Thornhill. Permanently. 

Tyler stays silent for a moment, regarding you with something on his face that you don't recognize. “Why are you doing this?” he asks, unreadable. But you refuse to falter.

“Because you don't deserve…her,” you say.  “The things she did to you. It doesn't have to be like that.”

He seems to consider this, for a moment, eyeing you up and down. He has no reason to refuse, not really. Not unless he actually does enjoy it, like Wednesday claims. If he likes killing, gets off on the taste of blood in his mouth. You know he doesn't, though. That's Thornhill. Right? 

“So what do I do?” he asks, shrugging his shoulders up. “Since you're the expert here. What do I do?”

You close the diary, dropping it down to your side. There aren't step by step instructions, no ancient ritual for you to follow in the dead of night. All Nathaniel Faulkner had to say on the matter is that the choice is always the Hyde’s. 

You roll with it.

“The choice is yours, Tyler. Make it.”

He furrows his brows, looks like he wants to protest, but doesn't. He keeps his mouth tightly shut, ducking his head down and focusing hard on the ground. You don't know what it's like, on his side. Aren’t sure how hard it could possibly be to make a decision, but won’t comment on it. You’ll give him however long he needs. 

After what feels like an eternity but must’ve only been a few moments, he looks back up at you, and you know instinctively that it’s done. 

“Did it work?” you ask, peering up at him. He seems unchanged. The same Tyler you’ve been talking to this whole time. The same Tyler that killed all those people and put Eugene in the hospital.

He shrugs. “Tell me to do something.”

You consider it; there's a million things you could tell him to do, endless ways this could go. In the end, you land on something simple. Something with no strings. “Come here,” you request, plainly.

And he does. 

—

So you’re Tyler’s master, now. 

It’s weird to think about. Weird to think that you’re the one who figured it out, that this victory belongs to you. You expected it might go to Wednesday, that she’d be the one to help Tyler. Either that, or kill him. You thought his fate would end up in her hands, for better or for worse. 

Evidently, it did not. 

—

There are many things you come to realize about Tyler in the following months that you never thought you’d get to know. 

You know he doesn’t really drink coffee, despite his choice in occupation. He wears socks for as many hours of the day as possible, and he sleeps with three blankets instead of a comforter. You know he keeps a secret stash of twizzlers in the cabinet above the microwave, because if his dad sees them they’ll be gone before the day is over. You know what shampoo he uses, how he prefers Spotify over Apple Music, and which drawer is the sock drawer. You know his favorite TV show is Friends, and that he’s embarrassed to tell people about it. 

You’re watching it right now, curled up on his couch in pajamas, empty bowl of popcorn abandoned at your side. Moments like this feel equal parts right and bizarre. Tyler’s a killer, and yet you’re spending your Friday night watching Friends together in his living room. It’s strange, but everything about your life is strange. You barely even notice it anymore. 

Tyler shifts beside you; you’re so close on the couch that it seems less like two bodies and more like a wild conglomeration of limbs; a leg here, an arm twisting there, the brush of fingers on the back of your neck. His hipbone is digging into your thigh, but you don’t mind. You wouldn’t move if every one of your extremities had fallen asleep. If the couch had set fire.

“You should…maybe move your leg,” Tyler says, breaking you out of your haze. You don’t have to do anything but tilt your head to look at him; when you do, he’s staring back up at you with furrowed brows and flushed cheeks, working his lips together. 

It takes you a moment to realize what he means, to feel that familiar weight pressing into the skin of your thigh. When you do, it’s with a start. Yes, you’ve done this a few times. But not enough for it to be a common occurrence. It may be rare, but it’s certainly not the first time. Once you get your bearings, you find that you’re confident enough to smile down at him, to raise an eyebrow and ask, “Should I?”

He makes a little sound in the back of his throat, and you can feel his hips arch up, ever so slightly. “I mean,” he starts, breathy and quiet. “Or you could keep it there. If you want.”

“What do you want?” you ask, sneaking a hand down to the sliver of skin exposed between Tyler’s shirt and his flannel pants. He shivers, but doesn’t answer. “Tyler,” you urge, trailing your fingers over his stomach. 

“Touch me?” he asks, squeezing his eyes shut, tilting his head away. 

And you’re not really in the business of denying him. It takes some adjusting—you do have to move your leg—in order to find the right angle, but Tyler waits patiently as you shimmy your way down the couch, until you can look at him and touch him all at once. You aren’t sure how long he’s been hard, but when you trail your hand down and underneath the waistband of his pants, he gasps too loud for it to have been a short while. 

He’s hot and heavy in your hand, already a little wet, too. As you grasp him, he shoves his face into your shoulder, exhaling long and slow into your skin. “This what you mean?” you ask, maybe a little mean.

He nods. You won’t make him say it—you’re not that mean—but you could. If you asked, he’d answer. You’ve found that’s true in a lot of aspects of your life. It’s a power you’re still scared to wield, no matter how many times Tyler reassures you. You prefer subtlety, to guide him in this way, rather than by giving outright orders. You think he likes it better like this, too, if the way he’s squirming under your touch is anything to go by. 

Friends is still playing in the background, but you’re too distracted to find the remote and mute it. Instead, you tilt your head to press a kiss to Tyler’s hairline, as you start to stroke him in earnest. You try to set a slow pace, but Tyler’s hips chase the contact until it’s fast and hard, just like always. One of these days, you’ll make him sit still, but today is not that day. You let him set the pace, pumping his cock for all it’s worth as he thrusts up into your first. He’s embarrassed, you know, but he barely shows it, apart from the way he hides his face. He’s as enthusiastic as you think he can be, not shy in showing you how much he’s enjoying himself, through little punched-out moans that have the tips of your ears turning red. 

You’re not sure how much time passes like that. All you know is that your wrist is cramping and your bicep is aching, but you still feel like you could do this forever. The sight of Tyler underneath you, panting and sighing and practically shaking, is enough fuel for you for as long as he needs. Him falling apart for you has got to be one of your favorites sights; the sounds pouring out of him are music to your ears. At a particularly loud moan, you glance up, take in his state.

His shoulders are tense, his hands clenched into his fists and his hips staying shock-still. You let yourself smirk; one of the many things you know about Tyler is that he’s not always the best at lasting. “It’s okay, Ty,” you say, whispered into his jaw as you pick up the pace, moving impossibly faster.

He exhales in a gust of air, deflating almost instantaneously; now that he knows he doesn’t have to wait, he lets himself relax, sink into the couch. It’s not long after that that his hips jerk, and he jams his face into your shoulder once more, and you know.

You guide him gently back by the curls on the nape of his neck. There are many things you’ve gotten to know about Tyler, but the face he makes when he comes has got to be one of your favorites. 

[heliads]

LISA REQUESTS ARE OPEN AHHHH!!! I have been waiting for this moment!!

Could I pretty please request Steven Meeks (my beloved) with a female reader? The reader is a student at Welton who’s disguised herself and pretended to be a boy at her family’s request since Welton doesn’t accept girls but she was smart enough to get in and her family wanted her to have a good education. Since she’s friends with Neil and Charlie, she gets invited to be a part of the Dead Poets Society, and because of that she gets to know Meeks and gets closer to him, but she feels terrible about lying to him. So one night at a Dead Poets meeting, she stands up and admits to being a girl, and though she’s terrified about them reacting badly the other Dead Poets promise not to tell anyone because she’s their friend (except for Cameron, obvs, but the others kind of bully him into promising). And then afterwards she has a one-on-one conversation with Meeks where she tells him how she feels and he admits he feels the same (and maybe he even felt the same about her when he thought she was a boy but was scared to say anything) and it’s just really cute?

Of course, if you don’t wanna write this that’s totally cool!! Thanks in advance, and I hope you’re doing well, beloved!! <3

'the secrets that we keep' - steven meeks

masterlist

a/n: in the fic, b/n stands for boy name. since reader is pretending to be a boy, you need a boy name for Vibes and Plot

Although dutifully called on by schoolboys to change the age-old protocol, Welton Academy has never admitted a girl to their brilliant ranks. For reasons of religious purity, single-minded pursuit of study, and otherwise knowing how easily distracted teenage boys are by a pretty face, the doors of this bright school have shut in the face of willing and able female candidates for years. It is a long-standing rule, as familiar as not running in the halls or sneaking off campus to engage in underage drinking. Similarly, this rule is about to be ignored by yet another student, and this one is you.

Headmaster Nolan firmly intended to maintain this rule. Your parents wanted a good education for their daughter. Never before has such a violent clash rocked the hills of Vermont. Not in a while, at least. It took many, many heated arguments and a good deal of defensive letters, plus a promise to secure an internship at a nearby hospital for the son of Headmaster Nolan’s good friend, a certain Mr. Perry. Also, you would have to promise to keep the whole girl thing under wraps.

This may seem impossible, but they were the terms of your acceptance to the prestigious school, and you were willing to live by them. No doubt Headmaster Nolan would be watching you like a hawk for even the smallest of slip ups, but you don’t intend to give him even a second of victory over you. You’ll play according to his rules, and you’ll ace your classes at the same time. Wouldn’t it be funny if one of Welton’s brightest pupils was a girl?

These were the sorts of thoughts that helped tide you over the summer until your first day of school. When that inevitable day came around, though, you couldn’t help but feel paranoia wrap around your stomach with cold, digging claws. This whole idea seemed impossible. How could you possibly pretend to be a boy the whole time you were at the school? You could cut your hair short and deepen your voice, stomp around the halls and act as if you were just like the rest, but what a thing to do. Still, whenever you think about quitting, you think about the triumphant expression on the headmaster’s face, knowing he’d assigned you the one task he thought impossible. If you were going to do anything, you could at least prove him wrong.

With this mindset in place, you move your belongings into Welton. You’ve been given a single room, as the headmaster decided that having a roommate would only complicate things. Smart move there; it might be difficult to hide your evident lack of masculinity from someone who’d be with you around the clock.

There are plenty of singles in the Welton dorms, the students placed inside for various reasons. It’s nothing uncommon. Still, it does draw a fair amount of attention during move-in, as students pretend not to openly stare at you while you’re unpacking your luggage to see what kind of kid could manage to pull the lucky slot of a dorm room all to themselves.

One group of boys in particular seems keen on making your acquaintance, although their attention, unlike that of many of the other students coincidentally passing by your door, seems pleasant instead of demanding. Their apparent leader, Neil Perry, drops by to say hello. Always glad to see a new face, or so he’d claimed.

Neil was the first, quickly followed by his new roommate, Todd Anderson, plus Neil’s best friend, Charlie Dalton. An additional entourage of Gerard Pitts and Steven Meeks joined them soon enough, and a redheaded Richard Cameron followed up the tour, although judging by the not-so-subtle hostility in everyone’s glances his way, Cameron would be the least favored of the whole group.

At first, you’re terrified to have that much attention directed your way. Your goal was to skate under the radar, only making friends when you absolutely had to so you could both avoid detection and focus on your studies. Although it might make for a lonelier experience, staying undercover was far more important. Your parents were sacrificing a lot to keep you in Welton’s halls. You couldn’t afford to disappoint them by getting caught all because you started feeling alone.

However, none of the boys seem to notice that you’re not what you claim. They take up your explanation of having recently moved there readily enough, as it would explain why they’d never heard of your boy name before. You picked that one out earlier that month as if it were a new notebook or yet another school supply: B/N. It’ll be tricky to remember to respond to that name, but no trickier than any other part of this little scheme.

Besides, once classes start to kick up, all of you have far bigger fish to fry than unraveling the precise identities of the latest addition to the friend group. Soon, questions about where you grew up and how you managed to get yourself cast down to Hellton are replaced with frantic trig study sessions and grievous Latin complaints.

If there’s one class none of you seem to mind at all, though, it would be English. The other boys heard rumors that you’d be getting a new teacher, but none of them knew a thing about this Mr. Keating. The general consensus is that English this term would be no different from English at any other time of year; plenty of assigned readings, loads of essays required to be written under short durations, and all of the other joys that a required literature course often brings.

This, however, was not to be the case. From the moment Mr. Keating opened his mouth, all of you knew you’d be in for a treat. Some of you were less hesitant to embrace Mr. Keating into your hearts, namely Cameron, but the rest of you have been quick to appreciate what you have. For once, you’re having fun in class. Who could have an issue with that?

And, when Neil swoops by your seat and asks you if you’d be willing to engage in the first meeting of the new Dead Poets Society out in the woods that evening, you know that the impact your new teacher has on his students is far more drastic than even you’d envisioned. You agree readily, and the rest of your friends look pleased with themselves for managing to boost their numbers with such an agreeable fellow.

If there was one boy who looked the happiest that you’d be joining them after hours, you’d have to say that it was Steven Meeks. Although he may not be the loudest of the set, Steven has quickly been rising through the ranks in your mind. He’s been working on this radio set almost nonstop with Pitts, but every time Steven accomplishes even the smallest of achievements, he immediately has to put everything aside to rush to your side and tell you all about it. It’s wonderful to watch him, how his eyes light up as he talks, hands waving wildly in the air while he talks about receiving signals and communication potential.

You should know better than to get attached. There is a significant chance that your whole ruse will be revealed sooner rather than later, and you’ll be unceremoniously removed from Welton, never to speak to any of these boys again. Still, watching Steven’s ginger curls fall messily about his bright eyes, tracing the path of his hand absentmindedly combing back the strands so he can focus on repeating the information he’s just learned, you can’t help but wonder if maybe this one connection wouldn’t be so bad. Your friends wouldn’t turn you in.

Besides, cutting yourself off from Steven sort of feels like chopping off a limb. When the lot of you sneak out from the dorms that evening, running and howling through the forest, Steven stays by your side the entire time. Dry leaves crunch underfoot, and the moon hangs low and bright overhead. Your heart beats erratically from its cage in your ribs, and you wonder how you could ever have been afraid of something like this. This is living, you decide. You and Steven in the endless night, laughing like crazy, more free than you’ve ever been even as you live your greatest lie.

The first meeting of the Dead Poets Society is a wild success. You take turns reading off various stanzas and prose, alternating between oohing appreciatively at a particularly good turn of phrase and teasing each other wholeheartedly whenever someone provides the opportunity. Despite the jokes, the atmosphere in the cave is reverential, almost. Everyone believes in the strange spirit that’s bewitched all of you, the knowledge that what you’re doing here will make you gods of men. It’s entrancing and awe-inspiring and the first thing you ask the next morning is when all of you will be meeting up to do it again.

Charlie breaks into raucous laughter. “See, that’s the spirit we want! Even B/N here wants more. We’re high off poetry, imagine that.”

You scowl at him, even as the others laugh along. “What do you mean, even B/N? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Charlie rolls his eyes. “Nothing, honestly. Just that you didn’t seem all that inclined to hang out with us at the start of the semester, that’s all. We got worried you didn’t like us so much, but obviously that’s not so anymore.”

You arch a brow incredulously. “Of course I like you guys! Would I put up with Neil’s monologues if I didn’t? Or Cameron’s bullshit? Or all of you howling in a cave past midnight so we can pay homage to dead poets worldwide?”

Steven snorts, more at the disbelieving look on Cameron’s face than anything else. “Now that’s a vote of sympathy if you’ll ever get one. I, for one, never doubted you.”

Charlie scoffs loudly. “Of course you didn’t, Steven. Anyone who listens to you ramble on about the benefits of the modern radio as much as B/N would have to be your best friend. Honestly, I’m surprised that didn’t scare him off more than anything else.”

Steven’s face falls, and to cover up for it, you say quickly, “I don’t mind the radio talk. Honest. It’s interesting.”

“Sure it is,” Charlie says a little too loudly, “So’s the company. Anyway, B/N’s right. How about tomorrow night for another meeting? Bring your best limericks, I want to be entertained.”

Neil breaks into choking laughter. “Absolutely, your highness. All your jesters will do their best to make you crack a smile.”

“It’s an honor and a privilege, you know that,” Charlie defends himself.

As you watch the friend group devolve into cackling laughter, you can’t help but meet Steven’s eyes across the table. Instead of getting caught up in the mock argument between Charlie and Neil, he hasn’t lost focus on you for one instant. When he catches you looking, he smiles quietly and mouths, thank you. You smile back.

The meetings of the illustrious Dead Poets Society carry on for weeks. As they go, you realize that you’ve never had friends like these, and it feels as if you never will. They’re the best, brightest bunch of boys in the world. You trust them more than you do anyone else. Those sacred spaces in the caves off campus, baptized by moonlight and wild imagination, make you feel more like you than anything else.

Except, of course, for one secret that still hangs in your way.

You haven’t told anyone that you’re a girl. Your silence carries with it the weight of your studies at Welton. If you want to stay, no one can know. It’s as easy as that. Still, in the quiet, happy moments when the wild laughter fades and you’re left looking around at the faces of the boys who have become your brothers, you can’t help but wonder if maybe you could tell them after all. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if they knew. Maybe they would even help you maintain your cover.

It would be nice to have a little bit of this burden off of your shoulders, after all. It feels as if every waking moment not spent studying is chained to making this lie work. Every time someone talks to you, you’re certain they’ve figured you out. This sort of paranoia is driving you mad, and being able to finally share the secret feels like a relief akin to offering a drink of water to a man dying of thirst.

The opportunity to share comes up sooner than you expected. At one of the Dead Poets Society’s meetings, Neil turns to you with a slight frown when they’re asking around for someone else to share a piece.

“B/N, do you want to go next? You’ve been quiet all meeting, I don’t want to speak over you accidentally.”

You shake your head a little too quickly. “No, no, I’m good. Just thinking.”

This, more than anything, attracts attention. Charlie grins, leaning over to you dramatically. “Thinking about what? World domination?”

You snort. “I’ll leave those plans to you, thanks.”

“Come on, B/N, talk to us,” Neil urges. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Your breath hitches in your throat. This is it, your chance. They’re all here, all willing to hear you out. If not now, then when?

“Alright,” you begin, “There is something I do need to say. I’ve, uh, been keeping a secret from you. A pretty big one.”

Charlie arches a brow. “A big secret? Let me guess, you’re secretly a teacher in disguise sent to keep an eye on us.”

This would usually elicit a laugh from you, but tonight you’re so worried about getting this right that you can’t even muster up a weak chuckle. “Not quite, Charlie. I’m–” The words dry up in your throat. How do you say this, after all this time?

The other boys stare at you expectantly. You’ve started now, you can’t back out anymore. “I’m a girl,” you say in a rush. “My parents wanted me to get a good education so they sent me to Welton. The headmaster really didn’t want to let me in, but he only allowed me to enroll if no one knew I was a girl. He said he didn’t want to mess with his pristine record of only letting boys inside or something. It’ll still show up on my college record that I went here, and he wouldn’t have to handle the difficulty of more girl students. I’ve been pretending to be a boy this whole time, but I’m not. I’m a girl.”

The words hang in the air. For once, the cave is absolutely silent. You can hear quiet breathing all around you, nothing more. Your eyes are fixed on the stone in front of you, resolutely refusing to meet anyone’s gaze. You’re certain that if you were to look up, you’d only see disgust or disbelief on their faces. This was their sacred space, and you’ve broken it to bits with your secret. You never should have told them. You never should have thought you could pull this off in the first place.

Just when you’re debating the merits of running for the dorms to get out of here, Charlie starts clapping loudly. You jerk up, expecting him to be mocking you, but instead his expression is celebratory. “Let’s go!” He says. “I’ve been waiting for a girl to go here forever. Of course Headmaster Nolan would be an asshole about it. Wow. Can you get more of your friends to enroll, too?”

You stare at him incredulously. “You’re not mad?”

Neil breaks in. “Why on earth would we be mad? That’s totally cool. You’re like a spy or something. We should write a poem about it. Maybe even a play.”

You can’t help but laugh at that. “It would be an honor to be your muse, Neil. But seriously, you’re all fine with it?”

“Of course we are,” Charlie assures you. “Jesus, have you really been worried about that? What were we going to do, kick you out? Your secret’s safe with us. We’re not rats.”

“We’re not?” Cameron chooses this moment to pipe up.

Immediately, he’s hit with death glares from every other boy in the cave. “No, we’re not,” Neil says firmly. “And if anyone even hints to an administrator or other student that B/N’s not a boy, they’ll get their ass kicked. Is that understood?”

Cameron nods, not meeting your eyes. Still, you have a feeling he’ll keep your secret.

Pitts raises a hand. “If you’re not a boy, is B/N your real name?”

“No,” you answer him. “I’m actually Y/N.”

“Sick name,” Charlie comments.

You swat him on the shoulder. “Shut up, Charlie.”

“Nuwanda,” he says in a dramatically injured tone.

Just like that, the tension is diffused. Once you’ve been assured a few more times that no one will say a word about your inherent lack of boyhood, the agenda turns back to poetry more. It’s like nothing even happened, except everything did. Your friends still support you. You feel more free than you could have even imagined, knowing that everything worked out.

On the way back to the dorms, you hang back a little, wanting to take in the events of the past hour by yourself. Steven notices and joins you.

“So,” he says quietly, “Y/N.”

“Y/N,” you affirm. “It’s not too weird, is it?”

“Trust me, it’s not,” Steven says. “This actually answers a lot of questions for me.”

You cock your head to the side. “What do you mean?”

It’s hard to tell in the darkness of night, but you swear his cheeks have started to heat up. “Well, I realized– or, I thought, really, I was sort of still deciding that for myself, I mean– Well, Y/N, I think I love you.”

Silence in the forest. “You love me?” You ask cautiously.

Steven scratches his head. “Yeah, I do. Hadn’t really admitted it to myself yet because I thought you were a boy. There was a lot of reflection going on. This makes a lot more sense, though.”

You can’t help it, but break into laughter. “I’m fascinated by that. What have the past few weeks been like for you?”

“Very confusing,” he answers. “Still a lot of questions left unanswered.”

“Like what?” You ask.

“Like if you like me,” he says quietly.

You smile again. “Well, I thought that one was obvious. I love you too.”

Steven stops walking completely. “Really?”

“Really,” you laugh. “Now come on, we have to get back to our dorms before an administrator notices we’re gone.”

Steven sighs dramatically. “The administrators are the last thing I want to talk about right now.”

You think your smile might never fade. “Me too. We’ve got plenty of time for that, though.”

Plenty of time indeed. The rest of this term, then on and on until both you and Steven can sum up perfectly what it feels like to be absolutely happy. For now, though, you think you’ll let the sensation of him taking your hand for the first time to lead you back through the forest do the explaining for you.

requested by @faerieroyal, i hope you enjoy!

dead poets society tag list: empty for now!

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[creedslove]

Proving Dave York's marriage wasn't going that great - Equalizer 2

First of all, I'd like to remind you all besties that I'm a Dave York apologist and I will forever defend this man no matter how many atrocities he's done (and were those really atrocities? Debatable) and I have also villainized Carol and I have zero regrets about it, so let's go:

• Exhibit A: The trip to Belgium

Susan and Dave are in a virtual meeting talking about the recent case, she knows shes gonna have to travel all the way to Belgium to investigate and invites Dave, who immediately goes like "and leaving this shitty office?"

But, what if the office isn't really his main problem? What if Dave was also looking forward to leaving the house for a little while? A trip to another country seems refreshing and also the belgium chocolate? Dave's excited... And as a husband and a father of two not once he thinks of bringing his family some chocolate? It's a sign of a stressed man who needs some time on his own

• Exhibit B: the hotel hall

Dave and Susan are going over the evidence they found in the crime scene, gathering hypothesis on what could've happened and Dave says there's no records of the victim cheating on his wife with anyone, not even flirty texts and Susan is like "come on, Dave women fuck around too"

And that's Dave's reaction:

He's like: well....

(also, sorry for the horrible quality of the pic but you besties get the point and also his tummy 🤤)

And then Susan asks him when was the last time Dave sent his wife flowers and all Dave says is: "noted, noted"

So that indicates it has been a long time since Dave has sent her flowers... So the romance is dead, and if the romance is dead so is their sexual life. Was Dave thinking about the possibility of Carol herself fucking around? And let's face it, she probably is

• Exhibit C: the kitchen scene

Commonly used to prove the point that no matter if Dave's an assassin, he's also a good father, the kitchen scene reveals more about his marriage than anything else; we see Dave's got a huge, beautiful house, and then we go to the kitchen. It's spacious, nice, and modern... And messy. One of the kids is whining about grapes and going to the dentist and the other one is doing the homework and Dave and Carol? Absolutely no sign of a loving couple, no pecking on the lips, exchanging glances, a little flirting... Nothing. They are just ignoring each other, Dave's got his cup of coffee and hand and checking his phone as if he's alone.

Then when Carol goes to answer the door, he's giving his youngest daughter attention, he is a good dad, but it isn't a heartwarming interaction between them, and above all, he seems bored, like yeah the kids are cute but he's got more important things to do

And then, when Carol takes a while to come back with McCall, Dave calls her by her name twice, of course he raised his voice because she was in another room and he wanted her to hear him, but it always seemed just so dry and harsh to me and I couldn't exactly figure why it was like that, until I finally got it:

no pet names at all

Seriously?! No darling, honey, baby, sweetheart?! Just a simple dry "CAROL" a couple of times and that's it? It smells like a marriage crisis to me...

• Exhibit D: the driveway scene

The scene where McCall runs into his old team and promises to kill them all; there's enough tension as it is, they all know McCall means business and he is low-key threatening Dave's family by pretending he's so nice and friendly and wanting to get a ride

(I just need to address how dumb and careless is to allow McCall, a man she's never seen in her life get a ride with her and get so cozy around her kids, I mean yeah, he's her husband's army buddy but he's also an old man who also happens to be a complete stranger and he suddenly wants to be around her and her kids, I mean, fuck off)

And Dave knows it's likely one of the last times he's gonna see his family... And what does he do? Does he hug them? Give Carol a peck on the lips? He does NOTHING!!!

So you know what it means? Carol wasn't worthy of her husband, they didn't love each other anymore and Dave would be way better off with me instead 😉🤪

[skriblee-ksk]

Adeline Ordelia

Summary:

[An elegant and diligent student who seems to know exactly what she wants. She has a strong sense of justice and an aptitude for efficiency. A girl who always strives to find the truth in the name of justice, she politely detaches herself from the students of NRC out of caution because of their questionable demeanors.]

[Despite her initial awkward air, she actually has a habit of delicately (yet strictly) taking care of those who need it with a crazy amount of patience. It’s like she has experience at this.]

General Info!

Name: Adeline Ordelia

Nicknames: Adelia and Silver (only used by Cynthia to annoy her).

Birthday: August 12

Pronouns: She/her

Sexuality: Straight

Dominant Hand: Right

Hobbies: Reading, Embroidery, Book binding, Journaling, and Scheduling the day.

Likes: Star Anise Tea, Victorian Styled Buildings and Outfits (or whatever equivalent in TWST), Solving Mysteries, and Chatting with Cynthia.

Dislikes: Celery and The nickname “Silver”.

Fears: Ghosts (and the specifics of after-death).

Traits: A natural talent for elegancy, Having a strong urge to do the right thing, and Dissuading people efficiently from bad decisions.

Extra Information: She has a sibling-like close friend who attends RSA, Her favorite color is a deep blue, She likes stargazing (casual), She's memorized half of Heartslabyul's rules by Year 1, and is attempting to memorize the rest by the end of this year (for fun).

“Reveal the site of what once was.” Snapshot Evidence: Adelia’s unique magic that can be used with any picture (physical or digital). To use this properly, she must think of a specific person and a specific time, and if that person was at the place she took the photo of during the time she was thinking about, the person appears in the photo permanently. It's a particular spell with a penalty system that creates more blot if she's wrong than when she's right. Thankfully, Adelia's cautious and meticulous, so it's rare for her to ever be wrong in the rare times she does use this power. Although her photos are generally known to be true through others' confirmations of events, it's not completely trusted by others because she can't solidly prove that these photo manipulations are an exact illustration of what happened. Unknown if it can accurately predict the future.

More about her under cut!!

Curiosity:

Housewarden Riddle’s overblot wasn’t the first one I witnessed.

The first one was just down my neighborhood, when I was about… Hm. 7 years old. I was coming back from a walk with my escorts when I saw Styx members quarantining the overblotted person. Mm, I guess I couldn’t call them a person anymore. I didn’t get to see much of it. I wasn’t tall enough. Still, I could see some of the damage caused to the nearby buildings, with pitch black ink dripping down and slithering through the cracks of the sidewalk.

Apparently, the sight wasn’t morbid enough since it didn’t pique my curiosity enough for me to learn about it.

Of course, until now.

Why, you may ask? Well, because I know about the basics of blot accumulation and overblots now, first off. But more importantly, because Housewarden Riddle wasn’t the last overblot I witnessed.

Doesn’t anyone else find this strange? Doesn’t anyone else find this dangerous?

Doesn’t anyone else want to piece together this awful trend? Or is it just a minor every day event for them? Are you aware of what’s happening?

It was merely sympathy at first. I respect Housewarden Riddle, and there must have been a great deal of trauma involved for him to get to that state. That’s what I told Cynthia.

But two in a row? Both of them are Housewardens. And so close in time, too. Aren’t overblots supposed to be rare? That’s why I’m curious.

Will this trend continue? And if it does, what am I going to do about it?

“What do you want to do about it?”

“I want… to help stop it.”

“I mean, you always have the choice of ignoring it, you know. Like most others do?”

“… Then why did you even ask—“

“Well, just in case~ Even though I already knew the ever-so-righteous Adelia wouldn’t just ignore it.”

“So that’s your goal, right?”

Gather data on the overblots and see if there’s any future ones.

If there are, figure out the reason.

Ultimately, help stop it, but keep others’ safe until I can find a way.

“Wow, that’s a lot. Are you sure you can handle it?”

“Even if I don’t get to all of my objectives, it’s good experience. And you’re already invested in this potential mystery, aren’t you?”

“Ehe, correct!”

I want to help people. I can’t tell you the reason, but I do. I want to save you. Even in minor ways. Even in final ways. Even if you don’t want to be saved, I want to anyway. I’m sorry.

It’s just because I’m curious.

- - -

A/N: YAYYY basically done with the YAI to TWST pipeline!!! Here's Adelia, my other daughter and the other main character of Your Artificial Image that I missed so much.

In here, basically what Adelia and Cynthia do is just. Try and find out what's happening with the overblots, and try and stop them. Near Book 5, Adelia decides to pair up with (threaten) the Headmage and get more access to the student files. Anyways, that's how those two will get more and more involved within the main story!!! I will expand more on them, hopefully. While Cynthia does things for the sake of doing, Adelia always has a reason for her actions, and that's what makes them suit each other so well!!

AND NOW!! With them, I’ll be able to draw other characters I don’t draw as much because their personalities suit other TWST characters’ dynamics!! YIPPEE YIPPEE WHAT JOY!!!!!!

anyways. yeah. thanks.

[keruimi]

The Way Back to Him

Sanemi x reader

Warning! Heavy Angst with comfort at the end

Note: I went overboard that I'm not sure if all of you would accept the leads🥹 Early Apologies. Secondly, please inform me if Sanemi's character is too ooc. I would gladly do better next time.

~•°•~

I fell in love with the person who had a painful backstory.

__________________

"Sanemi-san, my apologies but I can't return your feelings" she muttered as I sighed and leaned my back on the wall. I notice how her grip tightens on her uniform.

"I know. Because everyone sees me as rude, it's impossible to admire my personality at all" I started before standing back up so I can walk back to my estate to rest.

"Sanemi-san, it's not like that" she exclaimed as I just looked away from her.

"Don't worry, I just want you to know about the emotions I am feeling when I'm around you. I don't expect you to return it at all" I manage to stutter out without putting most of my emotions as I saw how her eyes start to gloss.

"I..." She didn't have the heart to tell what she is thinking that made me thought to leave already.

The atmosphere is overwhelming me...

"I'll retire first" I slightly bow in her direction before turning my back at her.

"Sanemi-san!" She shouted my name that made me halt from my steps, I didn't manage to go farther yet.

Maybe because I didn't have the heart to leave her yet...

"Maybe a part of it was my reason" she stated as I felt her quick breaths while I just looked at the empty road in front of me.

"But I don't know you better than you did. I don't know your story" I felt my chest tighten on her words.

"So forgive me if I can't tolerate your impulsive and abrasive attitude that you displayed to all of us"

I turn my body to the side so I can glance at her who is looking down while trying to get a hold of herself.

"If I did..." I trailed off that made her raise her head to look at me who is facing her.

If I did...

There's a huge possibility that she would see me in a different way than the world did.

But...

"Nevermind" I didn't continue anymore before making my way back to my estate as I left the atmosphere in silence.

There is still that slight chance that she wouldn't.

Storytelling would just open their eyes to your perspective. But it wouldn't bring them the same reasons why you did it.

I need physical evidence... An evidence that can prove my love to her.

But I don't know how I can show those emotions without losing the walls I build around myself.

The walls I used to prevent myself from forgetting her.

I arrived back home and my brother decided to ruin my eardrums for the third time today.

"You confessed again! Stop fooling yourself!" He screamed and an irk mark appeared on my forehead.

"Why don't you shut up you idiot!" I screamed back at him as I harshly threw a pillow in his direction before slumping back down on the couch as my thoughts wandered around until my little brother began to speak, more serious now.

"But Big brother, you still haven't forget about her. You can't push yourself to other women when your mind is always on her! That is unfair to them!"

I look down and thought about the words he keep repeating every time this happen.

I want to move on...

Every time my heart seems to catch on a different woman other than my first love.

I convinced myself that I love them but it was never enough.

I silently went back to my room after my brother tried to register his words to my mind but it didn't help me at all.

After all, I start believing she left because she still have dreams.

Our love is the only reason to stay but she has more reasons to choose the future she planned for herself.

I tiredly grumble to myself and thinking about her just reminds her warmth on my bed.

For goodness sake Sanemi, pull yourself together.

After the sudden meeting with the Master, I decided to take a stroll in the garden to calm my nerves down on the Kamado Siblings.

No matter what, she is still a demon. The blood of those monsters is already running on her body. That won't change anything.

I stop ranting on my brain when I notice there's another presence in the garden other than me.

In that one part of the garden, I notice the visible figure of a lady who seems to be in her own world, picking some useless flowers.

I raised an eyebrow on her actions before walking towards her and my footsteps immediately warned her about my presence as she stood up from the dirt before looking back to face me.

I don't know what has gotten to me but it feels like everything became slow motion the moment she turned around to look at me.

Her hair flows with the wind as her green orbs gaze at my own.

She looks like a beautiful memory.

"What are you doing? Aren't you aware which territory you are trespassing?" I ignored how my heartbeat quickened as I looked at the small basket she was holding.

She lifted a gentle smile before bowing to me.

"I was tasked to pick up herbs from any garden by Shinobu-san. My apologies if I startled you by my presence"

Such a gentle voice from a woman like her. I thought she would stammer or even become jolly like the other servants I came across.

Yet she manages to compose herself in front of someone more superior.

"What's your status in the Butterfly Mansion?"

I asked her as she properly stood up before answering me. "I am the provider of the herbs used in the medicines"

I nod before she went back to what she was previously doing. Out of nowhere she lent me a damn flower.

What would I do with this?

"That is Lavender. It helps with stress, my Lord"

She informed me even though I didn't ask yet. My frown deeper as I held my back on throwing and stomping on it.

"How can you make sure that I'm stressed?" I ask her as she just shrugged her shoulder before showing me a playful smile.

"Well, it's really up to you if you will admit it" she confidently answered.

Point taken...

Unknowingly, I have the urge to get to know her better. Even if it was against my wishes, my human emotions is also not giving in to my plans in life.

I'm already fine with flings but it seems like fate have other plans.

I knew I fucked up when I started to look for her presence. Yearn and longed for it.

And if I found her, we spend most of our time together in the garden because I got to know that it was also her habit to teach about the herbs she is collecting.

Sometimes, she is the one who can relax my nerves without even the herb she is giving to me.

I knew I was already sinking deeper in this uncontrollable emotion.

That I want her to stay, stay beside me.

But I don't know if I can give her the happy ending that is impossible to achieve.

When my job is to annihilate the lurking demons in the land. Too dangerous to settle down.

Yet even I tried to deny, oppose, or even refuse my developing feelings for her, there is already a change in my character before I manage to prevent it.

That I want her to be with me.

And that led me to me telling my growing feelings for her. And how can I hope she would like me back?

I still remember her words as clear as now.

"I don't like your character, My Lord. Your harsh and cruel attitude. I can't tolerate it but I know there are reasons" she started as I listen to every word she has to say.

"But that is the problem too, I don't know your story, I don't know you. So I am not sure if I can manage loving you."

Her words are full of honesty and no ounce of playing. She stated her reasons and I accept every word of it.

I decided to court her that day.

In two years, I showed her my weakness, I told her my fears, I shared my reasons.

I fell first, and I fell harder

I love how her mind was opened and her ears are ready to listen.

Every single second I fell in love deeper with her until she finally accepted me as her partner.

It made me so happy, Shinobu just ruined it.

"Are, Are? I don't accept it" she told me that an irk mark appeared on my forehead.

I don't know if she is annoying me or just wants to be sadistic. I heard her sigh that made me realize she is serious.

"Sanemi, Y/n became a close friend of mine too. On your reputation for the past years, how can I be assured you would not hurt her nor break her heart?" I can feel the care she has for my partner that made me give a pat on her shoulder.

"That would not happen"

"You better be or I will kill you"

And I continue to love her, if possible, even fall deeper.

Sometimes it scared me too. I am aware that she is becoming my weakness. And every night it scared me that one day, she would leave me.

But her kisses, her gazes, and her embrace held my biggest fear away from me. I loved her even if the world end.

That was a promise I tried to keep.

"Hun?" She called me as I lingered kisses on her exposed shoulder as our naked bodies warmed each other.

I hummed and put my attention back to her and notice she is thinking of something deep.

I snake my arms around her waist before I pull her closer to me so I can lay my head on her shoulders. "What's bothering you?"

I ask her. She hesitated to open up to me that made me squeeze her hands as she let out a long breathe.

"Would you allow me to leave? So I can pursue my dreams?" She ask me and I felt my whole body froze from her words as she turned to look at me with worried look in her face.

It felt like a knife just stabbed me without letting me react.

"Am I not your dream?" I decided to tease to lighten the atmosphere around us. But she just squeezed my hands indicating she was seriously asking me.

Yet the small smile on my lips never leaves. It hurted me, really. But I don't own her.

I just love her...

"Do you need to leave just to reach it?" I ask her as I tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear.

Do you really need to leave me?

"Yes" she whispered before looking away so she won't see my face.

"Would you come back?" I asked her as I tried to prepare my heart for her answer yet silence was the only thing I heard.

I can feel the ache in my chest as I just hid my face on her shoulder.

I can't make her stay at all.

It made me question so many things, so many memories of ours. Why would she give my love a second chance if she will not stay in the end.

That was my first question.

And it can be a reason to hate her.

But I didn't have the strength to. I can't hate her, not even one bit.

"Big Brother" I heard Genya call for me, trying to get my attention as I daydream again on the same garden where I first met her.

The moment she left, the taste of bitterness never left my life. Every single day, I could never forget the person who is my first time in so many things.

Chisuzu Y/n

How can you break me so easily? Why is it easy for you to abandon me?

You were my universe, you were my world.

And you left me for a dream you could have pursued with me. Why? Out of all ways for you to hurt me, do you need to leave me completely?

What can you do Shinobu?

When your friend was the one who broke me.

"Big Brother" my younger brother called for me again. "What" It was an irritated answer and both of us knew.

I would barely keep my past self from coming back again.

I became the same person as three years ago before I met her. Realizing I felt this heartbreak because I made her my weakness.

And it was my biggest mistake.

"Slow down Sanemi. You might lose yourself if you get too drunk" I heard Tengen's words but I keep going as they just didn't bother stopping anymore.

I drowned my sorrows, I buried my pain. Yet it always ends on the same thoughts lingering on my mind.

I gave her everything, but she left me with nothing but memories.

I want her back beside me...

~•°•~

"You want to become a swordsman with that lousy tactic? You hope to become better yet you are not doing anything for it. You think you can easily pray for it and they will bless it to you?" I exclaimed to one of my students as the others stayed silent. The anger in my tone was evident that I might explode any minute because of frustrations.

"Get a grip on yourself and do better!" I shouted before the student bow and accepted my words.

"Brother" I heard Genya behind me, his tone was not the usual serious one, it was more shock and worried.

Did someone die?

"What?" I asked him with slight annoyance in my tone.

"She is back..." I felt my world stop as I didn't have the guts to look at him.

But I felt how my gaze softened even at the slight mention of her. I felt my heart quicken like the first time we met but I still didn't bother to move from my place as I tightly held on sword.

"Are you not planning to welcome her? She is now on the Butterfly Mansion..." He informed me as I huffed out in disbelief.

I don't have the heart to. All the pain I felt when she left me was still evident, was still present and felt.

But she was the first one who decided to approach me.

"Hun..." I heard her gentle call of our nickname as I felt her hand snake around my body as she laid her head on my back.

"I'm back"

I felt my eyes sting as tears started welling up on it.

I don't want to turn around, I don't want to break again.

"I'm sorry for leaving you" she murmurs as I feel my hands touch hers.

"I can't hate you..." I finally spoke out as I turned around to face her. Nothing has changed for the past two years she left.

Two years that felt like a decade.

"I'm sorry Sanemi. It was selfish of me to leave" she admitted as she tightly clung to me.

"I almost lost it" I stuttered out as the ache in my pain never left.

But I was glad

She returned back to me, safe and sound.

"I won't leave anymore. Above anything, I would always come back to you. Only you till the end." She muttered before she tipped toe to land a kiss on my lips.

"Forgive me..." She asked with her gentle gaze towards me.

And how can I resist?

"So many people already told me that you were not worth it" I cried out as I lost the strength to keep standing in front of her as she kept holding on to me.

We were both alone, crying out the pain of our hearts.

"I don't want to give up our love even though I feel like I was the only one fighting for it" I tightly clutch to her as she offered me her shoulders to cry on.

"You became a villain to everyone's eyes but you were my hero, you made me become a better person when you were here" my sobs were uncontrollable that if anyone was watching, I would lose the reputation of the heartless mentor.

But the only thing I could think of was her.

"Y/n, I really love you... I really do"

"I know, I know that very well..." It was evident in her tone that she was trying to hold herself back from crying.

I don't have the heart for revenge, nor the heart to hate her. Because our lives are short, I don't want to waste it on another long journey of pain anymore.

We can always restart again...

And I'm willing to do it as long as it was with her...

[voidedaurora]

I didn't want to talk about this PUBLICALLY because I didn't want to air out her personal business like that, and I did try friending Lance and talking to Kiwi about this in private but unfortunately I was asleep when Lance accepted my friend rq and they randomly decided to block me before I got to talk to them about things, claiming they gave me "all day" but it was only like 8 hours max (bc its 4pm for me rn as I'm posting this)

But Lance has been posting stuff on Mels account on her behalf lying about some things regarding a wellness check I'd had called on her out of concern for her life and I'd like to clear all of that up 100% since they're flat out lying about parts and trying to spin a completely untrue narrative for other parts. I'm not sure what they're trying to do other than make me look bad but I digress Here is the post I'll be referring to https://www.youtube.com/@Quartelz9377/community

and the screenshot they use as "proof"

Now, firstly the easiest thing I can disprove is them saying that "it seems more like an attempt at damage control. This message was sent after the fact that the police were called, and Mel was hospitalized."

This isn't true, the message they use to prove this was sent on 10/14/2024 at 7:23am and then edited ONE MINUTE LATER to presumably correct a spelling mistake Evidence/proof that I sent that message on the 14th and NOT the 1st of November when the wellness check was called

And then proof of the edits within the message supporting the time It was sent/what I claim (for anyone that doesn't know, you can click the edit next to an edited message of your OWN to show your edit history, you cant see previous versions but you can see when it was edited)

This was NOT when I called a wellness check on her, I was concerned for her wellbeing and was debating it but I decided it'd be best to leave her friends to make sure she was okay since the things she was posting in her server hadn't yet gotten to "I'm gonna kill myself!" type of messages Here's the doodles that concerned me and prompted that message to Kiwi on the 14th please note these were PUBLICALLY posted in her discord server so I'm not rlly "exposing" or leaking anything

Now, Lance, Kiwi, and Koi have all been trying to downright smear my name saying I don't care about Mel and only called the wellness check to "look better" or gain something from it. This absolutely is NOT the case. I understand ya'll are used to Mel and everyone around her's actions being purely out of them gaining something from EVERYTHING they do but that simply is NOT me. Unlike ya'll I can not like someone and not wish fucking death and harm upon them. Now, I think its important to make it clear why I called the wellness check. I'd been let know by a mutual that on the 1st (Nov) Mel had been openly talking about her being suicidal atm and saying things that generally suggested she was going to harm/kill herself. Here are said messages.

Now, I think ANY PERSON would be concerned about someone if they were seeing them say shit like this, she literally says "I'm already on the fuckin' edge I just need one more reason". These personally were enough for me to believe that she was possibly going to hurt herself or end her life, and I do not want that. I don't like her. I don't want anything to do with her. These are true things I stand by, but I do not want her to hurt herself, I don't want her to end her life, and I don't want to harm her as an individual. I care about her as a FELLOW LIVING BREATHING PERSON and I at the time would've rather risked being wrong about her hurting herself and looking stupid calling a wellness check, than sit back and do nothing and possibly allow her to kill herself. If I CAN do something to prevent that I will, I could and I did. I do not regret this decision and I would do it again if she or ANYONE was in danger of hurting themselves or others. - Now that those intentions are clear I'd like to address the clear smearing of my name in all of this based purely off of personal hatred and bias from everyone involved?? Here's a couple statements from Kiwi and koi of them just flat out lying/smearing my name and otherwise trying to prove I'm an evil egotistical piece of shit or sm

I'd put more but I don't think that's necessary. As you can see from these, they're all trying to paint this as some malicious premeditated thing I was trying to do to Mel, using that message I sent to kiwi on the 14th as proof. I came off as not concerned because of WHO I was talking to (I really don't like kiwi </3 she's kind of a piece of shit so I cant help but be a bit blunt) and at the time I was also kind of upset she was flat out venting to everyone in her server, seeking comfort from a bunch of 16 yr old's is just crazy to me and it felt really icky to me, but I still did want her to be checked up on at the time. I'm not going to share the messages for what I'll mention now out of the privacy for the people I'd dmed to make the wellness check happen, but when she sent the messages alluding to killing herself on the 1st I panicked and immediately got onto figuring out a way to call a wellness check on her because I couldn't myself, dming ANYONE who would be able to about it because In my head, I didn't want to risk it and be too late. I ended up being able to wake up clover and have her call in the check in the end. I didn't even think about the fact Mel could've been pissed off/would've started things because of it until after the wellness check was called, it was definitely a concern that she would start shit because of it but I knew I'd be okay because after all, I did NOT do anything wrong by calling that check in because there was no other intent there other than her safety. I've never even done anything to suggest the idea that I'd ever do something like this just to "look better" either (to my knowledge) so I'm pretty sure what they're all trying to do right now is PURELY out of hatred and spite for me, trying to get back at me from what I can tell, although I do not deny that Kiwi could've lied about when it was sent, or lance could've convinced kiwi it was edited on a day it wasn't, or whatever else. This could've been a misunderstanding on their end but I don't think that's the case considering their attitudes and behavior regarding all of this. The last thing I will mention is this part of their announcement here

It's been going around that I blocked Mel and that she couldn't reach out to me because of that to clear things up personally, I dont remember exactly who, when, or where this was said but I do know it's been going around. This isn't true, I haven't had Mel blocked a SINGLE time since she left because I'd been advocating for her to talk to me about all of this privately, as much as it would've been more comfortable for me to do, I knew I couldn't. Additionally Lance is implying here that I've been constantly dming/harassing Mel or her friends, this is not the case. The only times/people I've dmed about any of this of her friends have been trying to DM lance about all of this to sort it out in private last night (sending a friend RQ) and then Kiwi on a couple occasions, the last instance we actually talked was when I was asking Kiwi to credit me for the VTuber she'd commissioned which she'd been using without ANY credit and intentionally not telling people who rigged it and ignoring when they asked (the biggest instances of this was her actual debut.) and then here's the rest of the dms until I recently relocked her

That's honestly all I have to say about all of this, I'm hoping I was able to provide some clarity to any of you confused and properly was able to clear their mess up, if anyone has questions or concerns my dms and asks are open

[optimisticaudience]

Sound of Freedom, Operation Underground Railroad, and Tim Ballard are frauds who hurt the people who fight actual human trafficking.

Talk to anyone who fights real trafficking, they will tell you what is wrong with Ballard. To start with, he used to fight child sexual exploitation as a federal agent but he quit to act as a vigilante. Here is the short version of how OUR works: they go into a foreign country and throw money around until a pimp approaches them. They then tell the pimp they want children, and ask the pimp to bring kids to a secondary location. Then they call the cops, have the police arrest the pimps, streams the arrest on FaceTime for a high tier donor, and then go home. If you don’t get what’s wrong with this let me explain: OUR raises the demand for child sex slaves. A mommy blogger who Ballard brought along wrote an entire article about her experience. He says his team is all sorts of CIA agents and SEALs, but apparently moms from Utah are more reflective. It turns out some of the kids were trafficked for the first time FOR Ballard. He waved money and encouraged that trafficking. Afterwards, he left the country with a handshake promise that the kids would be cared for by the police. He will say the kids got aftercare, but evidence says otherwise.

But maybe that’s not enough for you?

He hired a psychic in Utah to tell him where a child was in the Dominican Republic. He flew a team as well as that child’s father down to the town the psychic indicated and found nothing other than locals scared of the American paramilitary vigilantes who were asking for children.

He and a sister organization said they were evacuating people from Afghanistan. No one has found any evidence to prove that.

He has claimed OUR saved a 12 year old girl from slavery. Then, she was 11. Then it turned out she saved herself a decade ago without his help and they want to get credit for rescuing her.

He claimed to be partnered with American Airlines, who have no idea what he is talking about.

So what actually DOES Ballard do?

He campaigns against drag queens

Promotes Qanon/Wayfair conspiracies

Cast the actor who played Jesus to play himself in his own movie. (The actor actively campaigns on blood libel Q conspiracies)

But beyond all that, just remember the movie isn’t donating to anti trafficking causes. It’s just asking you to buy more tickets to juice the numbers.

Donate to your local shelter. Most trafficking victims are trafficked by loved ones or people close to them. The victims need all the help they can get.

And another thing: People are conflating criticism of this film with apologia for child trafficking. I keep seeing posts say it will “Raise Awareness,” despite it being an incorrect portrayal. If that’s true, then Die Hard is raising awareness about bank robbers.

Here’s an idea: watch or read ANYTHING from real survivors of trafficking.

[attonposting]

Just thinkin' about how showing your companions the Force in KotOR II is about healing, about teaching them to confront their traumas and cope with them in a healthy way, and on a Dark Side run, it's about yanking on that trauma and twisting it until it becomes all that they are.

Atton is a goddamn mess of a person. The war wrecked him and shaped him into a sadistic monster who committed mega war crimes until he met the one Jedi who forced him to see what he'd become. And instead of taking any responsibility, he bolted, coping by drowning out the world and doing his damnedest not to feel. The Exile forces him to stop running and confront himself – to face all those emotions he chopped up into little pieces and wore like masks, his guilt, his hate, his fear. I don't think Atton ever thinks of himself as a Jedi; him learning to use the Force is him learning not to be afraid of it, and himself, anymore. Atton decides he's going to finally try to do something with his life – maybe not for goodness' sake, but because he owes that last Jedi that much. And a DS Exile extinguishes whatever seeds of decency she planted, destroys his last remaining shreds of idealism, and convinces him not to fear himself in a much, much scarier way.

Bao-Dur is a genuinely good guy, but he's shackled by guilt. It's not straightforward, and it'd maybe be easier for him to deal with it if it was - Bao-Dur simultaneously regrets and doesn't regret what he did. He believes... not necessarily that Malachor had to happen, but that the war needed to end. But he's horrified that it was his hands and his mind that conceived the Mass Shadow Generator, can never banish the sight of so much death at his hand. And he can't reconcile how what drove him in the war was pure hatred, and the galaxy treats him like his service was a noble thing when he knows it was anything but. That rage hasn't left him even though he tried to move on and turn his hands towards kinder things. Through the Force, he's able to move on and at last find peace – but a DS Exile convinces him to give into his anger and let retribution rule him completely.

Mira is at her heart a scared little girl trying desperately to prove to herself that she's tough and capable – that she's over everything she's lost, that she's not alone and afraid. She tries not to care about anyone, because the galaxy certainly doesn't give a shit, but she does despite herself. A LS Exile teaches her how to come to terms with the things that hound her, and in that, find true strength. A DS Exile teaches her to cover up that fear by preying on others so that nobody ever has the chance to hurt her again, and convincing herself that hardness means strength until it becomes true.

Brianna has tried to find purpose in servitude, but she's isolated in an otherwise tight-knit unit. She's desperate to prove herself, but she's never good enough for anyone, and she knows why she continues to fail even as she's unable to let the source go. A LS Exile teaches her to transcend those concerns and be true to herself above all else – not only to follow her own path, but to find strength and value in herself, for the first time in her life. What Atris thinks, what her sisters think, is immaterial. A DS Exile doesn't free her from her mindset of servitude so much as twist her loyalties. That Brianna instead becomes convinced she's better than her sisters, better than Atris, and takes her anger out on her ex-family and beyond – becoming driven by scorn, seeing nothing but the failures of the Jedi to live up to their own standards.

Mical lost his future at a young age – something that probably saved his life, considering everything that happened in the following years, but which left him trailing in the shadow of the Jedi seeking answers nobody could give. He wants to believe in the Jedi Order, but recent history has left him with far too much evidence to the contrary. A LS Exile acknowledges the flaws of the Jedi teachings, even personifies those flaws through their history, but convinces him through their actions that their core still rings true and is worth striving for. A DS Exile utterly demolishes his faith in the same manner. Mical takes the Exile's fall as yet another betrayal by the Jedi, but it's the hardest hitting yet - this sheer debasement of the figure he idolized most. It finally extinguishes his idealism, even gnawing away at the compassion that defines him until he's yet another soulless cog in the Republic machine.

And Visas is already attuned to the Force, but a LS Exile gives her hope for the galaxy and teaches her of the beautiful little moments of connection and the greatness people can achieve together, where she'd become convinced that life was pain and the only thing any being could aspire to was an end to the suffering. What she witnesses is strong enough for her to come to terms with the death of Katarr and choose to keep going despite all that's happened. And a DS Exile... doesn't. They reaffirm her desolation and then give her the callous end she sought.

The Exile themselves went for ten years avoiding connections, and then the Force thrusts them back into the role of a leader – a role they've got decidedly mixed feelings about, when it was literally their empathy that caused their self-destruction in the Mandalorian Wars. Major YMMV on how you characterize your Exile's motives, but the way I saw it, a DS Exile isn't going to be hurt again. They're not going to get attached to their soldiers – they've made that mistake before and it brought them nothing. They know how to say the right words to get people to fight and to die for them, and that's all it is. And for a LS Exile... they know the danger of caring, but they won't allow it to stop them from living any longer, not after they've spent ten years dead to themselves. And it's the human connections they form that heals them, that allows for them to touch the Force once more.

Obviously a DS Exile is bad and they should feel bad. For a LS one, though - the Jedi Council's repudiation of your powers at the end of the game used to really bother me until this part clicked. You're all a bunch of broken people who find each other and learn to move on. Even if you're drawing them in with freaky black hole space magic, they are genuinely better off for your presence, and it's because of who you are as a person, not any way you've molded them through the Force.

[thelibrarian1895]

Bats and Time Travel

First, a disclaimer, I have only some minimal level of Booster Gold knowledge.

That being said, I'm going to go out on a limb and say that detective work isn't his strong suit, or the strong suit of most time travelers. Why would it be when they can just peak into the past and see what happened? So when something comes up and it's less straightforward than obvious bad guy needs a beating, Booster is at least smart enough to get expert help. On occasion that expert help has to go through time with him. He has to be very careful with this because no one wants another Flashpoint and he doesn't want to clean up any time shenanigans. The same goes for any other time related incident.

Bats are, of course, the go to for anyone who needs expert detective assistance. You can generally just grab any Bat and they can fill in as a detective though some are happier about it than others. Some are also more suited to time travel than others.

Batman works out well enough. He can be more or less trusted not to go off and mess with the timestream and cause some sort of catastrophe that takes forever to fix. Things get a little dicey if any case brings the Bat around Gotham or near one of his kids in the past. It becomes an exercise of restraint for both involved because B very much wants to go to his child and protect them/lecture them/hug them depending on the timeframe or at bare minimum loom over them. Booster has to sometimes physically get in the way to stop this. It doesn't always work. B is at least polite enough to fix the mess. Batman has trouble with alternate universe or alternate timeline adventures since he has to so often beat other versions of himself up and comes back extra broody. His family appreciate when he gets to the self reflection and determination to improve part after he's done brooding.

Nightwing is good to work with during time related incidents. Very professional, very cheerful, but still kept out of Gotham and very reluctantly kept from his past self because Nightwing really wants to give his past self a pep talk more often than not. Nightwing has, however, written letters for his past self that has resulted in a few branching new timelines or a mess that he was polite enough to help fix. Nightwing is allowed on alternate universe adventures which lets him give those pep talks to himself that he knew he desperately needed/wanted at those various ages.

Red Hood is not allowed on time travel cases because Jason has poor impulse control and has on more than one occasion killed someone who would commit a terrible crime in the future and ended up causing decades worth of a mess that needed to be cleaned up. He is responsible enough to fix his own messes and is only allowed now in alternate universe adventures. He's good at alternate universe adventures and they've helped him remember to rely less on hearsay and more on solid evidence.

Red Robin is Booster's favorite to work with because the kid can be snarky if caught in the right mood and the worst he has to worry about Red Robin when it comes to damaging the timeline is Red Robin taking pictures of various incidents. Red Robin is also polite enough to direct all attention Booster's way which appeases Booster's attention seeking nature. This is how Tim has the best collection of Batman tripping on his cape pictures and other similarly embarrassing incidents of his friends and family. Tim is allowed on alternate universe adventures and again returns with more pictures that his friends and family can't prove aren't them. He is developing an alternate tim support group to try to prevent additional gun batmen timelines. And, as he tells his brothers on occasion, so he can have intelligent conversation with family when Cassandra is away.

Black Bat would be Booster's favorite to work with except he's extremely intimidated by her, even more so than he can be by Batman. She has deliberately allowed herself to be seen in the past on occasion and those sightings in certain conspiracy forums as a cryptid. She's very proud of it. She is also a cryptid in other alternate timelines but is no longer allowed to go to alternate timelines after she has had to be restrained from adopting/kidnapping alternate versions of her younger self or her siblings.

Spoiler is also not allowed on time travel cases for the same reason as Jason, poor impulse control. She may have set off glitter bombs that resulted in a timeline mess almost as impossible to clean up after as the glitter. Her ability to help with alternate universe adventures is under review because, again, glitter bombs.

Robin aka Damian has worked in a timestream case once and came back with a dodo bird. Booster is glad that the kid allowed himself to be persuaded that there wasn't enough room to bring back the mastodon. He is not allowed to work on timestream cases until he can be trusted not to come back with extinct species. He is also not allowed to go on alternate universe adventures after he came back with another dragon bat he has named Desdemona.

Signal takes advantage of timestream adventures to fact check the crazy nonsense his siblings have told him. Booster likes the kid well enough and the invisibility does make things easier at times. The only reason he's not Booster's preferred Bat is because Signal is more naturally charismatic and people pay more attention to him than to Booster and also Signal needs to work on his confidence in his detective skills. He gets migraines dealing with alternate universe adventures and so tries to avoid them when possible.

Alfred has gone on ONE timestream adventure. Booster does not speak of the adventure. Alfred will just smile slightly if asked. Alfred is not allowed on alternate universe adventures because the Bats in his home universe get sullen and withdrawn without him and at least one kitchen fire will occur. His alternate selves are also possessive of their respective kitchens and do not appreciate intruders, even if the intruders are themselves.