#it'd be super depressing if they still only had each other to turn to. but they don't!

[agentravensong]

well, i did it! i watched the prince, finally!

i wonder how many of my hamlet castmates i can convince to get a nebula subscription

[brazenautomaton]

oh here's the missing interstitial / montage scene of Misa showing off how she do and Naomi learning the lesson about paranoia. I am concerned the exposition is too unnaturally dense but don't know if it'd feel any more natural if it was sprinkled in to the dialogue, since Naomi is already making observations

As L, I have a functionally unlimited expense account provided by “the Trust.” But said Trust knows where every dollar goes. We need some money for ourselves, money we can spend on things they don’t know about. Misa makes money from stream subscriptions and donations from playing video games online, but it’s not enough. That’s why Maki-Maru Investigations has come into play.

It turns out I can be a private investigator. It’s not THAT bad. We don’t do marital infidelity investigations, those just made Misa depressed in a way that even murders didn’t. We do just about everything else. We consult with the police sometimes when they need our help -- a setup I learned from an acquaintance in San Francisco. For civilians, we do skip tracing, insurance fraud, corporate sabotage, missing persons, anything the police don’t feel like doing. It’s not like working as L. We get to see things in person, talk to people, gather our own evidence. 

Two Asian women, one of whom is outgoing and energetic, the other of whom is scarred and can’t talk, that’s a <i>very</i> distinct profile to fit. There were already stories -- conflicting and fragmentary ones, sure, but stories -- about Misa Amane and her bodyguard in the Kira investigation. But what was I going to do, tell Misa it wasn’t safe and we couldn’t go out because we’d be made? I had to try harder than that. I had buckets of the Trust’s money laying around, that I didn’t want to spend on myself… so I dug up anyone else in media production who was inspired by that story, and I gave them a bunch of money. You self-published a novel, well, here’s enough money to distribute it. You want to shop a script around the major networks, here’s a mysterious backer who wants to fund both NBC and Fox’s pilots. You make indie comics, how would you like a two year contract to write this premise I came up with?

Now, we weren’t the only people who fit this profile. We weren’t the most super popular archetype in the world, but we were a <i>shtick</i> people could recognize and run across. The bodyguard was always mute, so my occasional aphasic stammering just looked like I was slipping up.  

Misa appreciated the hell out of being able to go out and do stuff with people, and I didn’t as much as her, but just like with the blood, I appreciated how much she appreciated it. That was enough for me. She got to bounce off of people. I got to see her bounce off of people.

This time, corporate sabotage. Someone in this office had been selling proprietary information to a competitor. The company who hired us expected us to take weeks poring over records and financial statements, but we were going to do it in a couple of hours. Misa was going to do it in a couple hours, with my help. I’m her bodyguard. I’m her bodyguard, and she’s my interpreter, and each of us is the other’s assistant in a way I just think is poetic.

“Hey, everybody!” Misa addressed the group of office workers. “Good morning, good morning, how is everyone doing?” Almost, but not quite, like a motivational speaker. Her Japanese accent was light enough to be easily understood but still distinctly notable. The assembled staff didn’t seem to be having a notable enough day to respond.

It was one of these nine people, the corporate office had told us, so we gathered them in a conference room. Well, it was an open-plan office, so it’s more of a central area surrounded by cubicles. The cubicles could provide ample cover if someone started shooting, but escape would be difficult. I took up standing position just outside, where I had line of sight to the elevator and a mirrored glass door propped open to see around the corner to the stairway. When the elevator door lit up, I could pull back behind this file cabinet until I saw if they were armed. Anyone came in shooting, I’d have several seconds of warning. The odds of someone coming in to shoot you are low, but they are never zero.

“Let me introduce myself!” Misa said, and she made a little heart shape with her fingers. “I’m Aiko Maru, from Maki-Maru Investigations! I’m a private eye.” Said it like it was a badge of honor, which it was. One of the two bald guys with glasses looked dubious. I didn’t memorize his name, I didn’t need to. I was just looking at how he walked, how he stood, to determine if he had a weapon. He didn’t. If he decided to just lunge at her with his hands, she was standing far enough away that I could draw my weapon and drop him before he reached her, assuming she ducked for me to make the shot. “Now, I know everyone is busy, so I’ll make this quick. The home office says they think someone has been stealing corporate secrets and selling them off. And that’s no good, right?”

General expressions of disbelief and amusement. The Indian woman near the back tittered a little longer than the others. She wasn’t armed, but she was up against the cubicle wall, and there might be a weapon on the other side. She’d have to jump over it, and in that dress it would be impossible to clear the hurdle faster than we could react. 

“So now, if anyone wants to admit they’ve been stealing corporate secrets, now is the time. Just say you did it and that you’re sorry, and you won’t be in as much trouble.”

A few seconds of silence. They started looking around, scoffing in disbelief.

“Nobody?” Misa took a swig from her bottled water. From home, not from the break room here. We didn’t have time to immerse every bottle here in water to see if they’d been punctured by someone injecting them with poison, you need to be looking pretty close. “Okay, how about this. Everybody put your heads down, and close your eyes.” Only one head went down. “I meant, like, now!” One more head down, another, and as the rest looked to each other they figured that this was happening and followed suit. Except the woman in mid-back right, her head just kind of lolled, her eyes were open, so I concentrated on her. “Okay, now, if anyone has been stealing secrets, raise your hand now that nobody else can see you. Anybody?” Scattered chuckles. “Anyone? Bueller? Bueller? Okay, okay, heads up.”

Hands on her hips, she exhaled in dissatisfaction. “I knew that probably wouldn’t work. But I had to try because, like, imagine how funny that would be if it worked? Right?” The guy with the Voltron T-Shirt under his unbuttoned dress shirt laughed, the only one who thought it was funny. “If I pulled that off, I would tell that story, like, forever. Now I have to do a bunch of boring interviews. Okay, so, everyone, back to your desks, I’ll come by and talk to you. It’ll be about fifteen minutes each. Have your job description and your recent assignments and stuff ready and all that. ” Rolled eyes, grunts of frustration, as Misa peeked over the top of her green filter glasses. 

The workers left out the other side, not walking past Misa, not getting within 12 feet. Misa stepped back, leaned over the short cubicle wall towards me. I listened, but didn’t make eye contact. I was flicking my gaze back and forth between the office workers, looking for anything suspicious.

“Okay, it’s probably //KELLY SANDINO//, she whispered. “//DAVID PLEM// was just trying to be polite, everyone else was bored with my bullshit, Kelly was the only one who was paying attention like she thought everything I said was important. Like she was concerned I was trying to lull her into a false sense of security.” I could hear her smile. “So I’ll pull her file, but we’re gonna start interviewing David for about a minute and a half, then hop over to Kelly’s station, where hopefully she’s started to get rid of something incriminating she thought she had 15 minutes to finish disposing of. If she turns off her monitor when we walk in, we know it’s her. Otherwise, grab her trash can.”

I nodded. I looked over to Kelly’s cubicle. Back to the wall, no concern about her screen being seen from behind, no direct line of sight to stairwell or elevator. We’d make her step out of the cubicle before talking to us to ensure she hadn’t picked up a weapon stashed there. If she was calling someone in, then they wouldn’t be showing up soon enough. We could pull the records from her office phone later on. If they already were on the way, I’d have to rely on being able to hear the elevator or stairwell doors open, but that also meant they wouldn’t be able to fire on us right away. I could set something by the stairwell that--

ACK! What the hell? Something smashed into me, bowling me over. My hand was inside my jacket and on the handle of my pistol before I even landed, but I didn’t draw until I could see where the attack came from. From the floor, teeth gritted, pulse pounding, I looked up for an assailant. All I saw was Misa’s concerned face leaning over the low wall, and a bunch of stacked boxes of paper. Paper boxes, stacked up on an office trolley.

An intern, skinny and awkward and panicking, poked his head around the tower. “Oh, Jesus, I’m so sorry! I didn’t even see you there!”

“Oh my God, Shoko, are you okay?” Misa said, and already she offered her hand to help me up.

“Oh my God, oh my God, don’t sue me, don’t sue me,” the intern half-begged half-muttered, “I just started here this week, I didn’t know you were here…”

I wasn’t going to sue him. I wasn’t hurt, and I fell over mostly out of surprise. He just bowled into me with a cart full of paperwork. 

I was thinking about how I’d deal with it if this white collar criminal had called in a hit squad, and I was thinking about it so hard, an intern had smacked into me with a cart.

He couldn’t even see around it. How fast could he possibly have been going? Not very. And he just… he bonked right into me.

I’m watching sight lines and evaluating cover and thinking about poison and the intern just bonked into me. Bonk! Full slapstick.

I started laughing. I couldn’t help it. It was just so perfectly absurd. As perfect a lesson as I could have seen. What are the odds that an office will have armed goons burst in, and what are the odds that an office will have a guy pushing a cart and not looking where he’s going? And what was I more concerned with?

I tried to hold in the giggles as Misa pulled me to my feet, but not too much. “Ooh, the laughter is good, I like that!” she said. “Use that. Moment she starts explaining something, laugh just like that, okay!”

[lesbian-in-leather]

Asoue and wwdits

Into the woods if you feel up to it

Thanks for the ask, darling!!

Just answered for asoue here

What We Do In the Shadows

OTP: oh it's gotta be Nadja/Lilith. What can I say; I'm a sucker for lesbians, Lucy Punch, and bitter exes. They really have it all <3

Favourite canon pairing: Nadja/Laszlo of course. Though in recent series they haven't really been getting any screen time so my love for them has been dying somewhat. I hope they get some good scenes in the last season!

Worst pairing ever: Nadja and Colin. Why did they do that. Why did they do that. Why did they do that. Why did they-

Guilty pleasure pairing: I WAS HALFWAY THROUGH WRITING AN 'OH I DON'T REALLY HAVE ONE' PASSAGE WHEN I REALISED I DO. I FUCKING DO AND NO ONE WILL KNOW WHAT I'M ON ABOUT BUT HERE GOES ANYWAY!! Okay so you know in that one episode when Nadja was on the council and they had a fancy banquet and Nandor was in his depression nap and everyone thought he was dead?? Well one of the sexy vampire ladies that turned up was Carmilla (famous vampire from the vampiric novel, Carmilla) and I ABSOLUTELY wanted her and Nadja to get together. There it is, that's the guilty-pleasure ship, yet another one-episode character but somehow worse than Lilith because Carmilla only had like three lines

A pairing you want to see more: Nadja/The Guide!! The Guide is throwing herself at my girl and she is absolutely clueless. Icon <3

That pairing everyone likes but you’re like “lol no”: Nadja/Jenna. Really not into it, she gave me a VERY strong maternal vibe and I am. Not a fan of shipping them. Again, you do you, but like. Not for me

Favourite non-romantic pair: Nadja & Guillermo! I wish we'd given more focus to their dynamic earlier in the show, they' 've always had the potential to be really great bitchy friends, but we DID get her going absolutely fucking feral to save his life, risking hers in the process, so... it's a win <3

Into the Woods

I have basically never thought about shipping these characters so this is going to be fun

OTP: Baker's Wife and Cinderella. Straight up, I think it would be really fun and also the whole "when you know you can't have what you want what's the profit in wishing?" vs "how can you know what you want til you get what you want and you see if you like it?" I'm just saying, their little late night heart-to-hearts could have turned into something fruity

Favourite canon pairing: Cinderella's Prince/Baker's Wife is literally just funny. Like girlie what was even going through your head there

Worst pairing ever: Rapunzel/Rapunzel's Prince. I'm sorry, she was locked in a tower for her entire life, then abandoned by her mother for the horrible crime of making a friend (and fucking him, but still, that was your fault too buddy-boy), and he has the audacity to complain that she cries too much?? She wandered alone in the desert with newborn twins thinking that you were DEAD. It's been less than a year! My girl had TRAUMA and she deserved better

Guilty pleasure pairing: the Witch and the Stepmother. Do they ever interact? No. Do I think it'd be super funny to pair up the only villainous women just because? Absolutely. They can start an "I was a bad mother but also I love my children with my whole heart" club and make each other worse

A pairing you want to see more: Florinda and Lucinda with Sleeping Beauty and Snow White, respectively. First of all I think it's funny that it would fulfil the whole 'good marriage' thing, but also I just think the stepsisters get a really rough deal and someone needs to get those princesses out of there before the aspiring Henry VIII's get on to their second wives

That pairing everyone likes but you’re like “lol no”: Baker/Baker's Wife. I'm sorry, there is no good option here. She cheated, he undervalued her at every turn, yells in her face because she just wants to help, and then has this ~wonderful realisation~ that "wow, maybe I should work with my wife!" before going straight back to his "you stay here and do nothing Because I Said So" mindset in act two. Mans has anger issues and I don't like it. Also, again, she cheated. There is no good angle to this relationship

Favourite non-romantic pair: Cinderella and the Baker. They really said "well, that was an awful lot of trauma none of us asked for. Guess we're sticking together and raising a family of two orphans and your infant son that you had with your wife (who's now dead) who cheated with my husband (who's telling people I'm dead)". Like that's so fuckin iconic.

Wait but ALSO the Witch and Rapunzel??? That's a fucking fascinating dynamic right there, like the Witch does love her! She absolutely unequivocally does! But also she doesn't know how to love her, and it is SO endlessly interesting to me and always will be

Send me a fandom and I'll answer these questions!

[toastess-with-the-mostess]

For the ship questions post, I have two ships. Firstly, 4 and 6 for pre-relationship, 2 for general, and 10 for love, for Panya, because *obviously*

And the second one is just 1, 4, and 5 for general for the crack ship Larmina and Zora (I just picked randomly which drule twin to use lol)

you fell into my trap and now you are stuck listening to my panya rambling YOU FOOL This got super long lol, stuff is under the cut Here's the post we're referencing

Yellow for Panya, Purple for Larmina/Zora

Pre-Relationship

4. Who felt romantic feelings first? Anya did! It was two years after they reconnected on Arus and right before the team got split up because of Wade. She never said anything because she was scarred she'd lose the special closeness they had, and because Pidge was crushing on Lance at the time lol

His crush ends after The Incident, since Pidge dedicated himself to getting back black lion, and Anya's crush takes a back burner while she makes sure Allura doesn't turn into a vegetable because of her depression. Around three years later, though, Pidge starts crushing on her in turn because she had come to visit them on Earth instead of Allura (she got dragged into royal business) during the holidays. Something about Anya laughing with the streetlights reflecting off her eyes and the snow that reminded him of home really got to him. Likewise, seeing Pidge still have so much life in him and his general excitement to have her near again brought that crush back into focus for Anya. Neither of them would act on it until like another 3 years though

6. If you had told one of them that the other would be their soulmate, what would they think? Pidge would brush it off, he doesn't believe in destiny or ghosts or anything mystical that's part of a greater force. Anya already believes they're soulmates, but not in the romantic sense. Soulmates to her are just people who are meant to keep crossing each other's path, and that has happened at least 3 times with Pidge

General

2. Did they have an official first date? If so, what was it like? No official first date, as in they went out somewhere, but what they consider their first date is when they both spent a bunch of time together in the Royal Archives. Only Arusian royalty and their advisors are allowed in, so Coran gave Anya a key for the door, and Pidge has snuck in there a lot before because he's not going to be kept from information period. It'd had been a long day for them both and the two wanted to spend some alone time together, so they agreed to meet in the archive, where almost nobody else was allowed in. Inside the archive was a nook hidden by the ceiling tall bookcases, it had a small couch with a lamp and coffee table. Neither of them knows who set it up, but they brought over some blankets and electric kettle and mugs just to sit and cuddle with each other. And that was how they liked it, a moment of peace together doing whatever they wanted in each other's presence

1. Who initiated the relationship, and how did it go? It was probably Zora tbh LMAOO Larmina holds grudges for a LOOONG time, and she wasn't over their joyride in the city, especially because as royalty they should know better. Eventually they do play nice and Zora has liked Larmina's spark from the start, so she just bluntly asks her out. Larmina takes it as a challenge almost, she doesn't see it as a fun time, but they end up getting along great and agree to keep seeing each other.

The Twins aren't actually evil in my eyes, I like to think they're spies who work with Lotor and feed the info back to the rest of the Drule Empire, which had kicked out the 9th kingdom (Lotor's kingdom) after dotu.

4. Were they each other’s first anything (kiss, relationship, etc.)? Larmina's first relationship, but not Zora's anything. I see them both as minors, so I'm not going much farther than that, but Larmina now fully understands why her aunt is so attached to the idea of someone really loving her in their relationship

5. What’s their height difference? Age difference? In the comics they look to be the same height, but I've always hc'd that the ladies of the team to be taller than their respective group (except Anya she got the short end of the stick, literally) Larmina is taller than Zora but actually younger than her. In dotu I know they gave the Drule's ages that go into the centuries, but I can't see that without some serious physical changes, so the twins are about as young as the cadets (Zora 19-20, Larmina 18)

Love

10. Do they prefer verbal or physical affection? This is actually kind of tough, at least for Pidge Anya prefers physical affection, she wasn't given a lot of verbal affection before either, but something about feeling the touch and warmth of another person makes her feel so happy For Pidge I guess he's the same, he's probably used to getting told how smart he is and things related to that because of his genius. When he gets physical affection though, it surprises him, it's really only Hunk Lance and Allura that are physically affectionate with him, so now that Anya is getting a lot more touchy as his partner it's like he can't get enough. Even if they're in the same room doing separate things, one of their limbs has to touch somehow or else he'll get dramatic. Truthfully, it's because of his last relationship that ended abruptly and horribly, her touch reminds him that she isn't going anywhere, especially after he let himself romantically care for and get into a relationship with someone again.

[ajokeformur-ray]

Right outside the door, only a daydream away // Arthur Fleck x GN!reader // comfort, slice of life.

I was having a talk with @your-truly-the-whale about Arthur and she shared a picture with me which sparked some inspiration. With permission, I have used this image and spun a little something. I know it's been a long time since I wrote anything but I hope you enjoy anyway!💖

Summary: Arthur's waiting for you. That's it, that's the fic.

TW; this one is super tame compared to past fics, but swearing, smoking (Arthur), emotional heaviness (canon compliant), negative thought patterns within the narrative (reader is very tired after a long day at work), talks of death due to crimes or natural disasters (general description of news, singular sentence), Arthur has insecurities about his relationship with you - it's within the narrative but isn't discussed or mentioned by anyone.

Gender neutral reader, "you" & Y/N used.

Word count: 2, 057 (🥺🥺🥺)

Oh, it had been a long day.

As you trudged home from work, the sun may have been high in the sky, but your spirits were low. You wondered if perhaps you were standing on them with every step you took. You glared at the ground, which seemed to whizz passed you much like the citizens of Gotham, everyone tired, everyone at their wits' end, everyone trying to do their best with what they had.

Fuck, it was a depressing state of affairs and the news got gloomier by the day. Every time you thought it couldn't get any worse, it did, and with every tragedy which was announced, be it a natural disaster or some kind of crime, you had half stopped despairing and half begun to ask, "again?"

You were turning into a cynic, but then, life did that to most. Why would you be any different?

You knew the answer - you had Arthur to go home to. That was why.

You smiled absentmindedly as you wondered what Arthur would say if he could see you now. He would probably have taken your hand in his own, his nicotine-stained fingers threading through your own, his grip squeezing. "That's it, Y/N, one more step. Step, step, step..." You tried to match your feet to the rhythm in your mind; Arthur had been the music in you since the day the two of you had stumbled upon each other in the street that day.

That magical day.

Oh, but he was everything you hadn't known you needed until you did. Time and again you had pushed yourself, improved yourself, invented yourself, encouraged yourself, soothed yourself, through the various trials and tribulations of life because of Arthur. Oh, but your love for him made you brave, and your bravery made Arthur feel that way, too, though even if you had told him that he was already brave, he wouldn't have believed you. The bad stuff was always easier to believe. It was all he ever heard, anyway.

Only when it became a slight effort to breathe, the backs of your legs burning, did you slow your pace just a little. Arthur wouldn't want to learn of you rushing home to get to him, though he would be flattered all the same, flustered, too, for he does the same thing every night. He always rushes home to you, no matter the weather or the mood.

Getting home seemed to take forever yet somehow no time at all as you turned into the apartment complex and made your way through the foyer, sweaty, tired, hungry, thirsty, and desperately missing Arthur.

You checked the post locker and pulled out some bills, feeling a twinge of white hot anxiety before you forcibly took a deep breath and counted backwards and then forwards to pay day, working everything out as best as you were able to without a calculator to aid you as you made your way to the lift; it was a piece of shit but it was more accessible than the stairs. It'd be tight this month, as it always was, but you would have some wiggle room either side if you stuck to your strict budgets. Still, you despaired at having to live the way you did. Not that there was anything wrong with your lifestyle, but you at least wanted to be comfortable within those somewhat forced parameters.

You at least wanted Arthur to be comfortable.

The lift jolted so many times you stopped startling at it and began to roll your eyes, before the bell dinged and the doors opened, shuddering on their way across the tracks. Arthur's apartment was almost at the end of the corridor and you were slower now, the bottoms of your feet so sore that each step hurt, but you had to get home. No one was going to scoop you up and plop you at your door; you had to get there yourself.

But you had Arthur. You had Arthur.

With that thought in mind, you were at the front door before you knew it.

You slid your key into the rusted lock and welcomed yourself home to the scent of freshly made coffee - Arthur had an uncanny knack of knowing when you were going to come home and he somehow always had a cup of your favourite made for you, prepared just how you liked it - and dinner in the oven. He had had a day off today, but you had been at work. Oh, but you hated the incompatibility of your schedules. Still, you were both home for now and that was all that mattered to you.

"Honey?" You let the word sink into your mind as a smile spread across your lips, and it saturated your next sentence, "I'm home."

Home.

Red sweaters, floral laundry detergent with bedsheets to match, bare feet, steaming cups of coffee, cigarettes, jazz music, old war films, journals and ink stains, jokes and laughter, tears of sorrow and joy aplenty... these were only some of the things about Arthur which you loved. More could be said about the parts of him your body couldn't touch, but your love could. It did.

You were each other's home; apartment 8J was just an apartment. It was the presence of the other which created the solace one tended to associate with the word home.

"Arthur?" You called again, removing your outer layers and setting your bag and keys down in their designated places. You didn't much care where they landed, you could always put them away later on when you had attended to the various 'check engine' lights your body had turned on, but Arthur cared, so for him, for him, you did what you knew he would appreciate. You did many things just for Arthur. You wondered if he realised the true extent of it, but you doubted it.

The muffled padding of bare feet on threadbare carpet suddenly greeted your ears and you barely had time to register the soft whisper, "yay, you're home!" before arms were around you and lips were at your forehead. Kisses were peppered there so quick it was almost dizzying and you smiled softly, your eyes sliding closed as Arthur assaulted you with reminders of how much he had missed you today, how much he loved you. "You're here, you're here," Arms squeezed and you brought your arms up so that you could hug him back, your own grip as tight as his.

"So are you!"

"Been waiting all day for you," Arthur tucked his face into the warm crook of your neck, and you let him burrow down, your eyes sliding closed as you enjoyed the moment for what it was.

"Me too," a few minutes more before Arthur pulled away, his hands sliding down your arms, fingers spread so that he could touch as much of you as possible all at the same time.

"Gotta get outta my work clothes," You wrinkled your nose and Arthur hummed contemplatively.

"I'll get dinner ready."

The two of you shared a tired, knowing look before, for the second and last time that day, you went your separate ways. It left a lump in your throat, and one in Arthur's, too, but this was a smaller separation and there were still a few hours for the both of you when the rest of the day had been put away. If you couldn't find the time for each other then you would make it.

As your body showered and removed the layer of the day's filth from your body, your mind stayed beside Arthur in the kitchen, thinking of him and the way he would frown in concentration as he checked the meal, the way his hands would reach up to grab two plates from the cupboard, the way he would hum That's Life to himself as he dished up and got the cutlery ready, the way he would smile as he spotted The Murray Franklin Show on the channel and turn the volume way up so he could dance to the introduction, before turning it down again as the paid audience's paid for and delivered applause reached its peak.

Arthur was only ever a daydream away, a whisper in the night which echoed the longings of your tried and tired heart.

Unbeknownst to you, Arthur wasn't in the kitchen. He hadn't lied, exactly, but dinner was already ready. He had kept it in the oven to remain warm while you showered. All he had to do was serve it up. He was missing you as much as you were missing him, and so he was stood right outside the door. Listening to the shower water fall and pool at your feet, helping you to rinse the day away. He hoped it was at your perfect temperature and that the water pressure was where you liked it. His forehead was pressed against the cool wood, his eyes closed as the scents of the products you used floated through the air and entered his nose gently. He was waiting for you, and he would wait there forever if he had to.

It sure felt like forever, but really it was only twenty or so minutes.

Still, Arthur waited patiently for you, his knee bouncing and knocking periodically against the wood, despite one hand smoothing down the expanse of the trouser material there in an effort to keep himself still. His dark curls bounced gently across the slopes of his shoulders, sharp angles barely hidden by his baggy work shirt. His clothes never had fit him right and at this stage, he doubted they ever would, even if he one day had the money to buy new ones. Which, again, he doubted. The only thing Arthur was sure of in his life was you, but even you felt too good to be true most of the time. Still, he loved you as hard as he could, meeting you gesture for gesture, affection for affection. What more could he do, but to enjoy the time he had with you while he had it? "Come on, Y/N, please." What was he asking for? He knew not, nor did he know to whom he was speaking. What did it matter? No one ever really listened to him anyway… no one except you.

His one and only person who understood him.

"Please come out. I need to see you, I - I want to see you. Please Y/N," Arthur's head banged lightly against the wood, which alerted you to his presence as you shut off the water at that precise moment… almost as if the universe wanted you to hear Arthur in his desperation for you.

You hurriedly dried and dressed, not quite rushing but you were almost there, and you carefully eased the door open. You didn't know exactly where Arthur was and so you didn't want to accidentally catch him. "I'm here, Arthur."

Oh, help you, but those beautiful green eyes slid closed in relief and those dark curls which framed his forehead shook lightly as he nodded his head, a smile at the corner of those thin lips you loved so dearly. "Hi," A quiet murmur, a hushed awe, greeted your ears and you couldn't help it, you couldn't, as you practically flung yourself at Arthur to finish the hug you hadn't been done with before you had gone into the shower.

"I missed you." Who spoke? You knew not, you cared not. It was two minds, two bodies, two hearts, but one thought, it seemed, as you craved each other.

The day had been put away, Arthur had waited for you and you for him, and all that was left to do was simply to have dinner, watch television, and enjoy the few precious hours away from the world before it ripped you out of Arthur's hold for another day.

You dreaded it, you hated it, but you had Arthur for now and that was what you focused on. Anything more than one step at a time, one day at a time, would overwhelm you, make you panic, and that was okay. You had one thing no other citizen in Gotham had - you had Arthur, and he had you, and that gave you all the strength and bravery in the world.

AF/J  @astheworlddturns @fluffedstar @jokersqueenofchaos @germansarechill  @lynnesm @sagyunaro @greghouse  @flowerglitterwoman @scaredclowncat  @lilliryth @crazygalore @obsessedandthirsty  @call-me-harley-quinn  @cbloodmarch  @askmrfleck  @justacomedy @takemepedropascal @rafaelina-casillasa @arthurflecksgirl @dumblefairy @loserwitchbitch

[damienthepious]

also. also because. i am a gremlin. and i shall die of Emotions and take you with me apparently. ["From yourself?" Amaryllis says, her brow furrowed with worry. "Look, I- I know this is uncomfortable, Arum, but- but I know that you've tried to get Damien to- to-"] to ["If you had managed to convince Damien to do it, it'd be cruel, first of all. He doesn't deserve that kind of guilt weighing on him. And second, again, you would be dead, Arum.] please thank i am lov u

[Pick a short passage from any fanfic I’ve written and send it to me, and I’ll give you the equivalent of a DVD commentary on that snippet]

you’re not a gremlin you are valid and i love you. that is a LONG PASSAGE THO, so BUCKLE UP. Also cw for discussion of depression, suicide, and suicidal thoughts below the cut. fun times with soft fic! or somethingggg

fun fact before we begin! Originally, this conversation was supposed to happen... before the i-love-you confessions. This was supposed to be broken down before they admitted that they cared for each other romantically, but i was having a shitton of trouble working out the trajectory and the ending of the scene, like, what the actual resolution was, and I couldn’t figure out how to make it work in time when all the other stuff in the chapter was good to go. And THEN it was supposed to happen right after the i-love-yous, but that felt SO busy and SO sloppy, so it kept getting shifted backward-

which wound up being kind of a blessing, i think? because here’s the thing- this scene is TENSE, here, and Rilla pushes pretty hard- but the older version was... kind of a FIGHT. Arum was much more aggressive about it, and there was a line in there for a long time- something like You will be gone this time tomorrow ANYWAY, Amaryllis. What does it matter? And then Rilla had this fucking heartbreaking- Missing you and MOURNING you are not the SAME THING, are you even LISTENING to yourself? and there was just... a lot more harshness to the whole thing. I’m glad it got to settle out, and I’m glad they were in a place to be softer with each other for this. It was too important to me that they addressed this, and i didn’t want it to get waysided.

obviously depression and suicidality aren’t things that have easy fixes, and love is not a Cure for mental illness, but i wanted it to be clear that a) rilla and damien are aware of arum’s non-physical hurts and care about them, too, and b) they are an expansion of Arum’s support network, which is SUPER important when coping with mental illness!

The Keep did the best it could, I think, but when it was just the two of them it was harder for the Keep to know what to do when Arum was deep in a depressive episode, and... well, they have a mental link, right? so I kind of assumed... they might share at least shades of this as well. Arum’s depression gets bad, the Keep is probably not having a good time just then either. Harder to take care of each other while you don’t even know how to take care of yourself. But! the initial point! expanding their collective support system is SO important to learning how to better cope with Arum’s mental illness, which has been running him pretty ragged while his physical injuries had him in traction.

Anyway. ANYWAY. the actual section you requested.

["From yourself?" Amaryllis says, her brow furrowed with worry. "Look, I- I know this is uncomfortable, Arum, but- but I know that you've tried to get Damien to- to-"] The reason why Rilla is leading this conversation is partially because Damien hasn’t fully discussed this with her, mostly out of a concern for... like... not betraying Arum’s trust? What happened between Damien and Arum was between them, and Damien wasn’t comfortable outright blurting that to Rilla. This was one of the ones that doesn’t get told. Not directly at least. Another reason why Damien takes a verbal backseat here is that... well.. he’s already said his piece to Arum on this front. The waters brought you here to live is a pretty definitive statement, yeah?

["What? Wh-what did you tell her?" Arum says, turning towards Damien, and he means to snap but his tone sounds more hurt than furious. Damien only sits, his hands clasped in his lap, his lips pressed tight together. "What did you say, knight?"] And, clearly, Damien’s instincts on that front were right. Arum is mortified by the idea that Damien would have aired his (as Arum thinks of it) weakness, and hopelessness. He’s hurt, that Damien might tell on him when it doesn’t matter because it didn’t happen, and he doesn’t feel that way now so clearly it doesn’t matter-

["He didn't tell me anything, Arum." She shakes her head, angling her body a bit more between them, leaning closer.] Rilla knows him too well by now. Tries to head off that hurt/anger and get them on track.

["Nothing specific, at least, but I'm not stupid. I heard you goading him plenty of times, and he said you told him about your- your work before we left, and he said that if he killed you then, it wouldn't have been a slaying and really there's only one way to interpret that evidence-" she pauses, cringes, bites her lip. "You tried to get Damien to kill you."] “it wouldn’t have been a slaying” was always a particular... phrasing that hurt me, i guess you could say.

[Arum freezes, his mouth going dry.] Arum does not like being confronted with his own weaknesses, as he sees them. He especially doesn’t want Amaryllis of all people to know about this- bad enough that Damien had to know.

["I don't know if it was because of guilt or- or depression or panic about the trip or what, but- but I already told you, Arum. I didn't put in all this hard work just for you to die. Just for you to throw all of it away-"] It was, in all honestly, a combination of these factors. Which is part of why Arum continues to panic. he’s still not really used to being seen, especially not in such a vulnerable way.

["I am home, Amaryllis," he manages in a whisper. "You brought me home. There will certainly be no reason for me to- to endanger myself now."] When you’re suicidal, it’s kind of hard to imagine what it’s like to not be suicidal. When you’re out of one of those valleys, it’s kind of hard to remember how deep they can feel. he doesn’t want to think about it. he’s happy right now. he has more than he could have ever dreamed possible, so it’s really hard for him to conceptualize that moment, right now. It’s hard, and it hurts.

["No?" she says weakly. "There wasn't any reason for you to try to goad Damien into killing you back in the hut, either, Arum, but you did it anyway."] no reasons that make sense outside of Depression Brain, at least.

["I-" Arum glances away again, his hand flexing, but she reaches out and takes one of his hands, squeezing tight. His eyes flick to Sir Damien, sitting quiet though his worried eyes are fixed on the pair of them. "I- that was- different-"] He has SUCH a hard time articulating this. Combine that with the fact that he really HATES talking about it. Lizard is having a panic.

["Different how, Arum?"] Rilla is pushing really hard, here, for good reason. She’s terrified that he might pull something after they leave. she hasn’t been away from him barely at ALL in MONTHS, and now she knows he’s suicidal, which is compounding the terror she already has about leaving him. She wants to protect him, from other monsters, from knights, from himself if she needs to. She loves him and she wants him to be safe and happy and if she needs to gently bully him through an uncomfortable conversation then by the fucking saints-

["I did not want you to endanger yourself for me, Amaryllis," he hisses, turning towards her with his tail thrashing. "You- you make the world less cruel, by your actions, your choices, your existence. The both of you. You try, if nothing else, and for you to leap to action and danger for my sake is- was-"] And he breaks. That was the real kicker of it, y’know? She found out that he needed to go home for his Keep and she buckled down, for him, after he had just been confronted with evidence of his former work and the ways it had directly harmed a human he loves. How could he possibly feel like he deserved that sort of care, that sort of consideration? How could he allow her to risk her own safety to get him home? He failed the Keep, he failed her, he failed himself-

in that moment, he was utterly certain that it was better for him to simply set them ALL back in their places. Amaryllis might be unhappy that he was gone, but it would be precisely the same hurt that she would have when she left him at home anyway, wouldn’t it? (pro-tip: No It Wouldn’t) Damien would simply return to being the knight he was always meant to be, and the Keep could grow a new familiar, unburdened by his distant, useless weight (pro-tip: No They Wouldn’t). And there would be no more risk to any of them for his sake. 

[She stares up into his eyes, her hand clasped tight around his wrist, and he clenches his teeth and pretends that his throat is not aching.] It is so hard to explain this to her. Especially while he is... currently fairly distant from the feeling. He’s keyed up, emotionally, because of his renewed proximity to the keep, and because of the giddiness of newly-admitted love. Literally everything feels like A Lot, right now. but this? next level distress.

["If helping me destroyed you, it would be the worst of cruelties I have inflicted upon this world. And I, Amaryllis, have inflicted more than my share of cruelties already."] ouch. I feel like i’ve already unpacked this so just. ouch.

["So you try to take yourself out of the picture instead? Arum-"] She’s horrified. She understands the particularities of Damien’s anxiety by now, how bad that can get, but Arum’s been pretty internal with his own mental health stuff and whatever hints she’s been catching have been somewhat obscured as possibly just... responses to the physical trauma? Him being actively suicidal when he was basically out of the woods physically is... hard for her to cope with.

["The little knight did not bite when provoked regardless, so I hardly see how it matters," Arum growls, and in his periphery he sees Damien flinch, his head ducking.] oh poor Damien. Thinking about how close he actually did come, to ‘biting’

[Amaryllis' grip on his wrist tightens. "You do know that's not comforting, right?] It’s really not. Putting the onus on Damien like that- god, fuck. [It matters because I- because we love you, and because if you die, Arum, you'll be dead. Even if you were trying to protect us in some roundabout way-"] back when this scene was placed before the i-love-yous, that line was “It matters because I- because I care about you,” for... obvious reasons. Rilla, unsurprisingly, is about as bad as Damien is, at hiding her feelings once she admits to them the first time.

[Arum flinches, and she pauses, pressing her lips together for a moment as she visibly chooses a different phrasing.] She knows him well enough by now to understand that he’s flinching because saying that it was altruistic to want to protect him... she knows she shouldn’t push against that.

["If you had managed to convince Damien to do it, it'd be cruel, first of all. He doesn't deserve that kind of guilt weighing on him. And second, again, you would be dead, Arum.] It would be cruel. I think about Rilla’s assessment of Damien from Treacherous Heart sometimes, about the potential deadliness of real guilt for Damien... if he really broke in that moment and loosed that arrow- it would have destroyed him. Especially at that point, when he cared about Arum, even if he didn’t have any proper context to fit that care into, and when he knows how much this creature means to Rilla- RILLA’S heartbreak if she had to come back to that- to that? when she thinks she’s coming back to pack him up for home? when she knows that she loves Arum but is forcing herself to ignore it and push it down and away? Arum killing himself by Damien’s hand in that moment would have destroyed all of them, in a way. but! hey, that’s not the kind of fic i write, yeah? oof. I just think about what-if’s a lot and make myself sad.

Rilla’s emphasis on the kind of hyper-obvious here is... deliberate, also. if you died you’d be dead is something of a redundant statement, duh, but also like... the permanent consequences of a temporary state of mind are fucking important, and Rilla needs to make sure that he understands what he nearly did, and why it matters, and why she’s SCARED for him.

anyway this was a whole fuck of a lot. i hope any of this is interesting or enjoyable and not just. heavy. whoops.

[ossa-otiosi]

Alternative containers for jar spells!☄️

I love jar spells just as much as the next guy! They're a great place for baby witches to start and they're helluva customisable- any size, shape, or ingredients you want. Not to mention they look cool as hell! But sometimes a jar just doesn't quite...work.

Maybe you just don't have a suitable one kicking around. Maybe you're in the broom closet, and a jar full of witchy ingredients would be too recognisably 'witchy' if it was found. Maybe you wanna carry it around with you, without ending up with broken glass in your bag. (Not a fun time).

Whatever your reasons, I got you covered!

💋Lip product containers💋

These would be discreet and perfect to carry in a purse or in your pocket! They're well suited to spell jars to ease verbal communication, for 'sweet talking' or persausiveness, or to help with clamming up in front of crowds and the like! Lip gloss or lipstick would also suit a glamour nicely.

💄 Chapstick in particular is an easy one. Just pull out the part that had the product on it, et voila! You might want to take the screw part out too, or you could just work around it.

💄 Once a lipsticks run out, you can pretty much do the same thing as you would with a Chapstick!

💄 The lip balm that comes in little pots is even easier to work with! Just wash it out once it's empty and fill it up with your ingredients.

📝Stationery📝

These are among my favourite diy containers! They're perfect for spell jars to boost your creativity or to prevent artblock, as well as being good for manifestation. (Drawing is kinda the same as manifesting something, right?)

✏️ Container sharpeners are an obvious choice! Just take off the lid, pop the ingredients in, and gum up the sharp part with something so nothing falls out. Candlewax would be a good choice, especially if you wanna seal it with a candle like most jars.

✏️ Spent markers and highlighters are a little fiddly, but fun! You can take the nib parts with ink in them out of the end(s), then pull the 'guts' of it out with tweezers. Save the nibs, but you dont need to keep the inside part around. Then you can fill the empty casing up with your ingredients, and pop the end and nib back on to make it just look like an ordinary pen again!

✏️ The empty pots from paint testers are another good one to use, and ballpoint pens are easy to get a hold of and hollow out!

✏️ The color of the pen/marker/paint could be matched to your intent, too!

📷Photo film containers📷

Okay, so this one is probably only practical if you're into photography. But if you use a camera with film and have a few of em laying around, they make cute spell jars! These are useful for creativity and manifestation, again, but would also suit spell jars for aiding with memory, or for spells to make something stick around. Or you could make one for helping all your pictures turn out well!

📸 Just pop the ingredients in the container, no extra steps needed! I'm personally a fan of drawing a sigil on the lid or on the side.

💅Makeup containers💅

I know I already covered lip products, but all sorts of makeup containers would make good spell jars once they're used up! Mascara containers, concealer sticks, and nail polish bottles are among the most useful in my opinion, but you could really use anything. They're particularly suited to glamours and the like.

🖌️ For any containers that have an applicator/brush in them, like mascara or nail polish, you might wanna consider taking it to get some more room.

🖌️ It gives you a good excuse to keep that empty container with a really cute pattern on it! You could match the colors or types of the makeup to your intent.

🖌️ All of them are useful for glamours, but you can get more specific for other intents! You could use mascara for a spell designed to help you 'see', like ones that aid in finding things or being perceptive, for example.

🍬Sweet containers🍬

These are particularly suited for spell jars to 'sweeten' something! The only example that comes to mind while I'm writing this is tic-tacs, but anything that comes in a relatively sturdy container like a tub or box would be good!

🍭 Just like matching colors to intent, you could match flavors! Mint could be good for cleansing or awakeness, cinnamon for strength or wealth, etc.

🚿Hygiene products🚿

These would be great for health, vitality, or cleansing spell jars! Empty hand sanitizer bottles or soap containers would work great for this.

💧This one's a little specific, but I've seen little gumball machine type things in public bathrooms that dispense little chewable...toothbrush things? They look like this-

And the containers from them would be great for these!

⭐Lockets⭐

Okay, so maybe these are veering a little out of spell jar territory. But lockets are amazing for any sort of spell that needs a container! They can be for any intent, they're super discreet, and you don't even need to carry them or worry so much about losing them.

💍 Most lockets are pretty small, so you obviously cant fit *loads* in there. But if you have some tiny crystal chips, they work great! Those, along with tiny amounts of dried herbs and single petals from dried flowers, all work great for little locket spell jars.

💍 Lockets normally have a place to put a photo in, and you can use that for a sigil to suit your intent! Or if you work with any dieties or other entities, you could put an image of them in there, if they're involved in your spellwork!

These would be great spell jar containers for health and vitality. Make sure you wont confuse these for your actual medicine! I know it'd be pretty hard to mix up the contents of a spell jar with your allergy meds, but still. 😅

💍 Any other jewellery with some kind of compartment would work too. I've seen rings which are basically tiny little lockets, which would also work great! You could even wear them on certain fingers to suit different intents. (I remember reading somewhere about each finger having different associations, but I cant find it. I remember the pinky finger being Mercury, though...?)

💚Medicine containers💚

💊 You could try matching a medications purpose to an intent, too. For example, a spell jar to help ease depression in a bottle that previously had depression medication in it, or a spell to keep away unpleasant things in a painkiller bottle.

💊 While we're on the topic- remember to take your meds today if you haven't! And always remember that magic is not a substitute for going to the doctor if you need it.

All of these have their own associations to me, but theres nothing stopping you from using them for any intent- if you wanna make a spell for good health in a camera film canister, noones stopping you. I'm sure theres a million other containers I'm forgetting about, but these are the ones I personally find the most interesting or useful. I hope this has been of help!

Good luck and godspeed to you all! 💛

[rachkittycat]

The Act

****WARNING****

If you have suffered from any kind of abuse, do not read this if you are sensitive to it. This chapter is full (not super detailed but even so) of suffering from rape. I do have to let you know that this will get better as well.

For those of you who choose to continue to read this I do sincerely apologise and also thank you for bearing with me.

The act, the dance, the intricate moves. Bodies mingling together and pushing apart. The sweat dripping from his brow, sliding down his bare chest and dropping onto your breast as he towered over you. It was all planned out, every last movement. You remember that day like it was just yesterday. A day that started out like any other day but somehow fate didn't allow it to stay like that for long. She wanted something better for you. She still does, she knows the hardships you had, and will still have that hasn't happened yet. She knows that you will make it. She knows who you are, even if you still don't know it yet yourself.

It's been almost 3 years since that day. You thought you were in love with him, thought you'd spend the rest of your life with that man. What you didn't know was that he'd end up hurting you. More than what you could ever imagine. As the years went on you felt like all you were to him was a second option, someone he felt "safe" around because he knew you'd never leave. You couldn't exactly say no to his advances all the time but you couldn't say yes either. He had been taking advantage of you, you've known it for a while. You thought it'd get better eventually.

Everytime you found yourself finally get comfortable because he had shown that he loved you by respecting you, something would happen. Just like that first day. You remember everything. It imprinted on your brain.

His breath tickling the back of your neck as he pushes you down across the ottoman. His rough hands moving yours and your knees, forcing you to kneel doggy style on your shared piece of furniture. The sound of ripping, as he tears your pants off your hips. The cold air brushing it's way across your ass cheeks. The goosebumps that rise upon your skin with every touch he places on your skin. Your eyes watering as you begin to feel helpless and try to crawl away from his grasp. Your cries of desperation to get away fading into the void between your thoughts and your tongue. He won't let you go. You know that, yet you continue to try.

It doesn't take long for you to give up though. Realizing that it's pointless. You feel yourself shiver under his grasp of your hips as he pushes your panties out of the way and begins pressing the tip of himself at your core. The more you try to move away from him the rougher he gets. As soon as you try to move away he forces himself roughly inside you. Pushing all the way in, completely filling you up. You yelp at the suddenness, the force and the pain he brings to your core. As he pulls himself out and pushes back in you can't help but moan out. You aren't sure if it's starting to feel good even if it's not what you wanted. You do know that this act is supposed to be a loving one, but it's not. Far from it, he's being to rough, it hurts. You keep repeating those words in your head, it hurts, please stop, it hurts.

Eventually you find yourself saying them out loud. The pain becoming too unbearable as he slams himself deeper into you. He's enjoying it too much though. He slaps your ass cheek hard, hard enough to make you scream out, forcing your body to tighten around him. "Stop, please. Please stop. It hurts, I don't want this." You continue to cry out but it falls on deaf ears.

He does what he wants. He always has. Your just a trophy to him. A toy to play with. You feel his chest against your back and he breathes heavily into your ear. "You like this, don't you? You fucking whore, just listen to yourself, your moaning so loudly. The neighbors will hear." Suddenly he grabs you by the neck and pulls you up, still slamming himself roughly into you. With his free hand he grabs the hem of your shirt and pulls it off of you and your breasts fall free from the constraints they had from your tight shirt.

His rough hands grasp each breast and begin squeezing roughly. Pain shoots through your entire body now as you try to claw away from his grasp. It doesn't stop him though, it just makes things worse. He removed his hands from your breasts and grabs your hair at the roots and shoves your face down hard into the cushion underneath you. Your hands immediately go to help you try and lift you up but to no avail. He's too strong. Again he slams into your almost naked body, your breasts rub against the fabric of the ottoman forcing your nipples to get hard. It's unfortunate that you're so sensitive there right now. It's nothing nice, nothing to bring any pleasure to. It's the painful kind of sensitivity. As he finally loosens his hold on your head you are able to turn enough to be able to breathe. Every fiber of your being begs for this to end.

The moment it does end, he doesn't give a warning. He doesn't pull himself out right away, he never does. He releases himself inside you. All of his cum pours into you. Unfortunately you don't even realize he's done it. You're too numb. You can't think, you can't move and you certainly can't feel your lower body. You don't want to.

You shake the memory away. He broke you. A year had gone by since that first rough night. The other times you remember weren't as forceful but you knew it was still rape. This time was different now though. You got married to him. Not directly after that night. More like, eight and a half months later. Now, three months after the wedding you sit holding a beautiful baby boy. Your two month old. You told yourself that he was going to help change your life.

You're separated from you husband now. You had moved back in with your parents after he lost his job because he was harassing another woman. He, of course wasn't allowed to move in too, which you were truly greatful for. You ended up becoming terrified of him. You always worked and he had your son everyday. Every day you were scared he wouldn't be taken care of properly. Today is the last day of that though. Soon you won't have to worry about your husband "watching" your child. You are actually trying to move the rest of your things out and into the storage unit you rented. Unfortunately it's time for a break and you find yourself sitting on the very ottoman you hate so much. You assume that your husband has left to go get the mail and take something to the apartment manager while you feed your son, so you get comfortable and decided to lay across it, tummy down and watch your baby eat his food. Giggling as he looks into your face as you smile, watching him shove a fistful of chicken into his mouth.

You are barely aware of your husband's presence behind you and before you know it your pants are being pulled down and his member is already inserted. Memories start flooding your mind as you try to push him off of you. Desperate to not let your precious baby see how his father treats you. Far too soon in your struggles against him you feel your arms give out. You start feeling ashamed that you can't protect your son from seeing this. You watch as he crawls towards you and holds out his hand to yours. At this point tears are staining your face, rushing out as quickly as they form. You reach your hand out and hold onto his as his father mercilessly pounds into you from behind. You keep telling your son that everything is okay and as soon as he smiles and laughs your heart drops. Thoughts of him seeing this and hoping he'll never remember flood your mind.

As soon as your husband is finally finished with you, you jump up as fast as you can while pulling your pants back up, immediately picking your son up and holding him, crying into his shoulder. Praying that he forgets everything he saw. In your mind, you swear that you are never going back to your husband. Any doubts of divorce you had, now squashed by his actions today. You pray you'll never have to see him again.

You never tell your parents what happened to you. It doesn't matter, it never had. Not in your mind at least. Just because of his forcefulness you had to harden yourself from the outside world. Every man that wanted to talk to you was shut down before he could try. You sounded mean and hateful but you could care less. You hate men, in your mind they are all pigs. They always will be. You only ever trust your family. The men who raised you, both of your grand fathers and your dad.

Your hate for all men changed one day though. The worst day you had since that incident with your husband. Your depression returned, the hatred for yourself was the strongest it had ever been before and no matter how much you wanted to die, you knew you couldn't do that to the current love of your life. You just couldn't let him go live with his father. He needed you. You knew that. While he was napping you decided to go on Facebook and waste some time. Before you knew it you had stumbled across a boy band. You started to watch their music videos and couldn't understand a thing they said but became so captivated by the songs. Somehow something started to change in you. You started watching some of their other videos, laughing when they laughed as you read their subtitles, crying when they cried. You watched their recorded hardships and how they overcame that with each other. You watched their dreams unfold and realized that they cared for each other and tried their best to help with whatever was possible.

They brought you happiness that day. You decided that you wanted to learn their language so that one day you can tell them yourself how they changed your life. Before you knew it, your life took a complete 360. All the depression you felt was gone in a matter of months. You felt great. You played with your son more, you even took him out on walks every day. Something you almost would have never done before.

You're parents thought you were crazy for liking this particular boy band but you didn't care, every time they tried to criticize you and make you feel bad about it you reminded them that you have the capability of liking something of your own accord. They had their opinions and their likes, so why couldn't you have yours. You never judged them for what they like so why should they judge you. After that there were no more weird glances. You were finally the happiest you ever could be. You had almost everything you wanted for the current time being. However, you had one more big surprise awaiting you. One that would ultimately change your life more than the discovery of this band.