#it's been so long and it seems i forgot the effect the mask has on me

[mugsywrites]

Randomly posting part of the "Eddie Goes to Therapy" fic I started after 8.17 but will probably never finish. It's technically a crossover with Apple's Shrinking, because I think the only way to help this man is to put him on a different network in a different genre, but you don't need to be familiar with the show, just watch this to familiarize yourself with Eddie's new therapist.

The drive to Pasadena is long. Eddie almost turns around twice on the way there, and again when he pulls into the shady parking lot of the Cognitive Behavior Therapy Center. Sunk cost is the only keeping him from turning around when he walks into the living Anthropologie catalog the is the interior. Eddie can too easily imagine the sort of people who usually walk into this place—older, whiter, and wealthier than he is, who sit down and pay some shrink north of three hundred bucks an hour to whine about how they’re just not happy.

Eddie, of course, is not paying that much. Even if he had that kind of money to spend on this he wouldn’t; but Frank was apparently able to call in a favor and work out some kind of deal. Which is what he says when Dr. Rhoades (“Call me Paul”) asks what brings him in today. “I guess I’m too messed up for my former therapist. Or anyone else within reasonable driving distance, so he referred me to you.”

“Yeah, that was my fault,” Dr Rhoades—Paul-says, “Should have been more specific. What brings you back to therapy in general?” He has sharp eyes that peer out from his rugged, craggy face, and a low, gravelly voice. He sounds like if Salvador Sanchez, the boxer mix Helena Diaz used to keep for protection while Ramon was away, could speak human words.

“Same shit. Different day,” Eddie says. He may be sitting down but he’s holding himself-mentally and physically—at attention. Face blank, so that the drill sergeant can’t pick out any weakness to grip onto and exploit.

“And by ‘same shit’, what exactly are you referring to?”

“I thought Frank sent you my file,” Eddie says, staring at the space just behind Paul’s left shoulder.

“Yeah, I have Frank’s notes. But I’d like to hear it from you.”

God, this is why he hates therapy. The shrink just never comes out and says what he thinks, just tries to make you say it in your own words. It reminds him of when he was a kid and his mother would ask if he lost his sense of smell or something, rather than just say flat out he forgot to take out the garbage. “PTSD. Survivor’s guilt,” he pauses, “Anger issues.”

“Uh huh,” Paul says. He has a little black notebook that he pages through, takes a moment to write something, then looks back at Eddie, “You were seeing Frank for about a year, right?” Eddie nods, “Did you find it helpful?”

Eddie has to admit that he did, “Yeah. I was having panic attacks, and Frank was able to teach me how to get them under control.” 

“Uh huh,” Paul grumbles again, sounding more like Sancho than ever, “Why did you stop going?”

“Like I said, I was able to get my panic attacks under control. Didn’t seem like the most effective use of my time.”

“But you’re back now. What changed your mind? Was it a specific incident, or just general feeling?”

Eddie feels the control of his Staff Sergeant Diaz at Attention mask slip for just a second. He wonders if Paul Rhoades catches it. Probably. The guy is old as fuck, white-haired and needs to whip out reading glasses to write in his little notebook, but those eyes were sharp when he first took in Eddie Diaz. “I got into a fight with someone. It got pretty ugly.” Then, because he knows Paul will ask, “With my uh. With my best friend’s boyfriend. Or maybe former best friend, I don’t know. Buck, my…he’s taking Tommy’s—he’s taking his boyfriend’s side on this, so.”

“When you say fight,” Paul says, “Do you mean an argument, or did it get physical?”

“Both,” Eddie admits, losing control of Staff Sergeant Diaz again.

“How’d this fight start?”

“Well, he started the verbal portion of it. But I am the one who threw the first punch, so I guess I get why Buck is taking his side.” Not just Buck, he reminds himself bitterly. Everyone his taking Tommy’s side on this one, from his Captain to his coworkers to his own son. Christopher doesn’t even know the details, but he’s still team Buck and Tommy. Or maybe just team “My Dad is an Asshole”, the team he’s been on since they moved back to LA, the team he’s about to be voted MVP- 

Paul interrupts his increasingly frustrated train of thoughts, “I didn’t ask who started it. I asked how it started.”

“Man, I don’t even know!” bursts past Staff Sergeant Diaz’s tight control, “The whole thing, it just came out of nowhere. Tommy just started unloading on me, saying this fucked up shit to me…”

You think Evan’s just fucking great when you need free therapy or childcare or a free fucking punching bag—

Fuck you, Kinard. What are you implying, that I’m some kind of abusive monster, or-

Oh! Gosh no, Diaz! Sorry, I didn’t mean to imply anything. I meant to unambiguously state you’re a shitty friend and selfish user. Not just when it comes to Evan. You use anyone who tries to be your friend, you use your own family, including—

You need to be very fucking careful what you say to me next, Kinard.

Or what? Because if you put a hand in my face I will mail it back to you. As I was saying, you use your own fucking son as carrot and a stick when you fuck up with Evan-

“Tommy said some pretty unforgivable shit, including bringing my kid into it. I think I’m entitled to take a swing at anyone who throws Christopher in my face. Besides, he practically dared me to.” As soon as the words are out of his mouth he winces, knowing how they sound. He doesn’t even need to look directly at Paul’s one judgmental eyebrow. “Tommy is a firefighter too. Former military, plus has three inches and thirty pounds on me, knows Muay Thai, and I may have started the physical part of the fight but he definitely finished it.” Weeks later and there’s still a lingering tenderness in Eddie’s shoulders from Tommy practically twisting his arms out of the sockets in the process of pinning him to the ground. 

But what Buck had said to Eddie when he tried to explain himself was, You don’t get it, Eddie. I…I’m not…I am never going to forgive you for this. We’re done, we’re not. W-we, I can work with you, and I s-still. Chris can always come to me, but I don’t want to talk to you, or see you for a minute more outside of that. We’re not friends, not anymore.

We’re not friends anymore. Like they were in fucking middle school. 

We’re done, like Eddie was the one who was Buck’s fucking boyfriend, and he was breaking up with him. 

I am never going to forgive you for this. Like Eddie was a fucking monster. Like this one (admittedly fucked up) incident was enough to erase almost a decade of friendship. 

Although really, should Eddie really be surprised by that? Buck had been distant for months before the confrontation with Tommy. Eddie hadn’t noticed it at first, chalking it up first to lingering grief over Bobby, then to his confused situationship with Tommy rotating to “on again”. Eddie was in El Paso for a long time, maybe Buck just got used to being without him. Maybe it was easier to be friends with someone like Ravi, someone younger and easier to impress. 

Jesus, now I’m the one who sounds like we were fucking boyfriends.

“We’ll go back to that,” Paul says, “But I still don’t have a clear idea how this fight started. Where were you? Was it just you and Tommy, or was anyone else there?”

“It was just me and Tommy,” Eddie says, “We were at Tommy’s house.”

“What were you doing?”

“I was looking for Buck. I needed to talk to him about something, and Buck’s…well, it’s not official, but. That’s where he lives now,” Eddie’s mouth twists, “Buck practically moved in with the guy like, a week after they got back together.” Eddie’s hit with a fresh wave of anger and betrayal. Tommy dumped Buck out of nowhere, broke his fucking heart, Buck spent months baking away his feelings while Eddie did his best to stop him from spiraling. Even after all of that, Eddie was nothing but supportive when they decided to give it another try. And the guy had the balls to say Eddie was a shitty friend. “You know, up until that night, I thought…I thought Tommy and I were cool. We were friends before he and Buck started dating the first time. I thought we were still friends. So when he said Buck was out with Ravi—another friend of ours, I asked if he wanted to hang out for a bit while I waited for Buck to come back. Have a few beers, shoot the shit. He said no, that he bad shift and he quote unquote ‘literally can’t deal with Diaz Drama on top of it.’” 

“That’s kinda harsh,” Paul says.

Eddie snorts, “I actually thought he was joking, at first? His sense of humor is like that, deadpan, kinda dark. I even laughed. But he told me he wasn’t kidding, and wanted me to fuck off. Stuff escalated from there.” 

“I see,” Paul says, with a thoughtful grumble, “What did you need to talk to Buck about?”

“Nothing. Just some stuff,” Eddie says, back in Staff Sergeant Diaz mode.

“‘Just some stuff’? That’s why you went to his house instead of calling or texting, and why you decided to wait until he got back?”

“Nothing that’s important to the fight I had with Tommy,” Eddie replies. Nothing that warranted being accused of using his son.

“Humor me,” Paul says.

“It’s really not why I’m here,” Eddie says, jaw tightening. He is here because Tommy fucking Kinard picked a fight with him and Eddie went too far in response. He apologized, to Buck and to Tommy, and he won’t do it again. But then Buck said they were done, not friends any more. Then everyone else found out and had to throw in their two cents, draw lines and take sides. Now Eddie is the one who has to take at least three hours—probably closer to four, he’d being going in the wrong direction when he went home—out of his day to drive to fucking Pasadena and sit in this bougie office spilling his guts to a guy who looks old enough to have been around when lobotomies were cutting edge psychiatric treatment. 

“When I asked what brought you back to therapy,” Paul says when it becomes clear Eddie isn’t going to say anything else, “You said ‘same shit, different day’ in regards to you PTSD and anger issues. Have you ever gotten violent with anyone in the past?”

“I fought in Afghanistan. What do you think?”

“How long did it take you to get here?”

“Sorry?” Eddie asks with a jolt, as though Paul had read his mind.

“You implied earlier that my office wasn’t within reasonable driving distance. So. How long did it take you to get here?”

“An hour and fifteen minutes,” Eddie says.

“Probably be worse on your way back into LA,” Paul says.

“Definitely,” Eddie says. Traffic will be bad enough, if there’s a fender bender or something worse…

“So why are wasting even more of your time dancing around why you’re really here? Because this whole thing will go a lot faster and be a lot more productive if you answer my questions.”

[a-killer-obsession]

Need [FTM!Killer x Kid]

Killer has a need, Kid helps.

CW: transmasc killer, pre-ts, degrading terms, rough sex, fingering, p in v sex, biting, blood

WC: 2.2k

Masterlist || A03

When Killer started on Testosterone, he knew there'd be some side effects. He'd heard about other trans men needing to jerk off all the time, but he didn't think it'd be that bad. He'd been presenting as a man for longer than most of the crew had known him, having had top surgery before the Kid Pirates were even formed - only Kid, Heat and Wire even knew he wasn't born with a dick. But it wasn't until Sabaody that he was finally able to start hormone therapy, and it'd only been a few months since then. He was thrilled with the way his muscles were already building, a small goatee starting to proudly grow and making him feel more like the man he knew he was born to be, but there were, in fact, side effects.

Namely, the one he'd been dreading. Killer had never been a very sexually charged person, and with his low confidence and anxiety around not having the equipment he was expected to have, he usually just solved any sexual frustration on his own. His periods had all but stopped since starting on T, but it seemed like when they did happen that they were always followed by a particularly heated ovulation. He was starting to feel like a bitch in heat the way he was craving dick, and this month was exceptionally bad. All the toys in his arsenal no longer seemed to be enough to satisfy him, and he felt like he couldn't concentrate on anything except the throbbing between his legs. He was thankful for his mask when he caught himself literally salivating over Kid working out on the deck - sweat dripping down his pale body, veins straining against thick muscle, thick thighs barely contained by his pants. It didn't help that Killer knew he had a nice thick cock too, they'd fooled around a few times when Killer was still in the closet. Not that Kid cared that Killer wasn't a woman, all Kid cared about was whether you had at least one hot hole for him to fuck.

Killer groaned in frustration as he tossed and turned in his bed, several orgasms in but still craving. He knew what he needed, knew it was just across the hall and more than willing, but he felt ashamed for wanting it. Images of Kid's muscular body swam around in his mind, followed by memories of Killer getting plowed by him, and his pussy clenched around nothing. Swearing and throwing his legs over the side of the bed, he gave in and unwillingly trudged across the hall to Kid's door, banging on it with a closed fist until he heard an annoyed grumble on the other side.

“The fuck you want?” Kid growled as he opened the door, immediately taken aback by Killer's disheveled appearance. His black and white polka-dot shirt had been straining on his growing form for a while, and now hung loosely from his shoulders, unbuttoned and revealing the sweaty, well sculpted torso beneath and the faint top surgery scars Killer usually hid. His jeans were unfastened, sash missing, and his socks and shoes had long been thrown off. His mask was on, but his hair was a mess, Kid could tell he'd been tossing and turning for a while. “You good?” Kid asked in a more concerned tone.

“No, I'm not good,” Killer huffed, pushing Kid backwards into the room and slamming the door behind him so he could speak freely, “I'm horny as fuck and I feel like I'm going to fucking explode if I don't get railed properly.”

Kid was a little speechless, he was never one to say no to a hot lay but Killer wasn't the type to ever ask for it. The few times they'd done the horizontal tango had been after significant persuasion from Kid, and not since Killer had come out.

“Are you gonna fuck me or not?” Killer growled, slipping out of his jeans before Kid could even answer. Kid could see the wet patch already staining Killer's briefs, and smell the pheromones coming off him. It made his dick twitch and his breath catch in his throat, and he forgot to say anything. “Oh for fucks sake,” Killer hissed, grabbing Kid's hand and shoving it down the front of his underwear, “stop acting like you're gonna say no and fuck me already, I’m going insane here.”

Killer's cunt was dripping as he held Kid's hand against it, grinding against it, his other hand gripping Kid's shoulder for support as he rubbed against Kid's fingers like it was just a toy, making desperate sounds Kid had never heard him make before. “Fuck, yer dripping Kil,” Kid groaned, curling his fingers to slip inside Killer, immediately able to sink two inside him and pumping him fast. Killer moaned and threw off his helmet, discarding it on the floor so he could grab Kid's hair and tilt his head to chew on his neck. His other hand slid down Kid's front, desperately seeking out the hard dick he knew he'd find and palming it through Kid's pants before slipping under the waistband to handle him properly. Kid’s free hand groped at Killer’s nice round ass, making him whine. He could hear how pathetically wet his cunt was, but he was too needy to be embarrassed.

Kid groaned as Killer squeezed his cock, making Kid swear under his breath before capturing Killer's mouth with his own and forcing his tongue into his mouth. Killer was more than willing to reciprocate, already close to cumming as Kid pushed a third finger inside him and curled them deliciously. It’d been years since they’d tasted each other and it only made Killer more desperate for more.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” Killer pulled away from the kiss and sunk his nails into Kid's shoulders as his legs threated to clamp shut around Kid's hand. “I'm gonna, fuckkk,” he groaned as he came hard, almost collapsing as his legs shook. Kid made a feral growl as he pulled his hand from Killer's briefs, sucking the juices from his own digits as he locked eyes with the first mate, who made a small whine at the action. Kid pushed him backwards until his knees hit the bed and he fell back against it, Kid immediately yanking Killer's underwear off before stripping his own clothes, his needy erection bobbing as it was released.

“Fuck I missed the taste of that sweet cunt,” Kid purred as he climbed on top of Killer, “I bet its just as tight as I remember too.”

“Hurry up and find out,” Killer spat back, lifting his hips to grind his slippery cunt against Kid's erection.

“Needy slut,” Kid grunted, rutting against Killer a few times before lining himself up, “like a bitch in heat, take this cock then.”

Killer moaned and wrapped his legs around Kid as he was stretched by his girthy cock, filling Killer up quickly as Kid pushed straight to the hilt. Killer's eyes rolled back in satisfaction as he finally got what he was craving, and he pushed his heels against Kid's ass to beg him to move already. “Hold your fucking horses, fuck,” Kid complained, trying to get into a comfortable position. He lifted Killer's legs to rest over his shoulders then he dragged them upward and pushed forward, making Killer grunt as he was folded in half and Kid's dick reached impossibly deeper. “There you go,” Kid grinned, “now I can fuck you good and deep.”

Killer was about to make a snarky remark about how long it was taking but Kid forced the breath out of him with a heavy thrust as he started at a brutal pace, giving Killer no time to adjust or complain - exactly what Killer wanted. Kid didn't need to be a rocket scientist to know that Killer wasn't here for a gentle loving night, he was here for a hard fuck, so that's what Kid was gonna give him. “Oh fuck,” Killer groaned, “just like that, fuck.”

“That’s right, take it,” Kid grunted, gripping Killer’s thighs hard as he pumped him and the room filled with the wet squelches of Kid’s dick thrusting in and out of Killer’s greedy cunt. Killer gripped the sheets either side of him, balling them in his fists and untucking the edges of the sheets as he squirmed and groaned, the bed rocking and creaking with every hard thrust. “Fuck, your cunt is just as tight as it was,” Kid groaned, “bet it was just begging for my cock huh? Needy little slut, desperate for your captain’s cock.”

“Call me a slut one more time and I’ll bite it the fuck off,” Killer growled, reaching up and pulling Kid’s red locks, forcing his head to tilt. Kid growled and pulled Killer’s hair in return.

“I’d like to see you fucking try, slut,” Kid taunted. Killer growled and squeezed his thighs tight around Kid’s waist, flipping both of them so he was on top and sinking his teeth into Kid’s thick neck while he rode him. Kid’s nails dug into Killer’s back and drew blood, as did Killer’s teeth, dripping down Kid’s pale skin and staining the sheets beneath them. Kid pulled Killer’s hair hard until his head was forced away, and he captured Killer’s lips, tasting his own blood on his tongue as he sucked on it. He bit Killer’s lip and earned a deep growl in response. “You wanna play rough, let's play rough,” Kid snapped.

Pieces of metal flew at Killer, wrapping around his wrists and tugging his arms upwards, like he was hanging from a chain. “No fucking fair,” Killer grumbled as Kid slipped out of his cunt and climbed off the bed, standing behind Killer, his wild blonde hair running down his back, matting with the trails of blood from the marks Kid had made. Killer was on his knees on the bed, his back arched as his hands were held above him. Kid made a satisfied hum at Killer’s ass before kneeling on the bed behind him and forcing his cock back inside, Killer letting out a grunt at the action.

“You look good like this, Kil,” Kid teased, giving him a hard thrust, his painted fingers sinking into Killer’s hips, “maybe I’ll keep you bound in here more often, use you like a fleshlight whenever I want.” Killer wanted to complain at being treated like a doll, but his pussy was clenching at Kid’s dirty talk, and he pushed back to fuck himself on Kid’s dick. “Needy,” Kid commented, holding Killer’s hips tighter to stop him moving, making Killer whine. Kid pushed closer, holding Killer’s back against his chest, his mouth at Killer’s ear as he moved some of his blonde hair out of the way. “I’ll take good care of you baby,” Kid purred, nipping Killer’s ear, “you just sit pretty and take it.”

“I’m not pret- fuck,” Killer snapped as Kid bit into his neck and started fucking him hard again. His pelvis snapped against Killer’s ass with every thrust, reddening the skin and making Killer feel like he was being spanked. Kid’s hands ran up Killer’s front, pinching his sensitive nipples almost painfully, making Killer go brainless at the multiple angles of stimulation. The metal around his wrists released him as Kid’s teeth left his neck, leaving a bite mark to match the one he’d given Kid, and Kid pushed Killer’s head against the bedding with one hand while the other spanked him hard. Killer cried out, his orgasm close, and Kid brought down his hand again against his ass, leaving a bright red handprint.

“Fuck, I can feel you clenching around me Kil,” Kid groaned, “go on and cum for me, cum on your captain’s cock.”

Killer bit down on the sheets to muffle his scream as he came hard, gushing and saturating the front of Kid’s thighs and the sheets below. Kid worked him through it until Killer went boneless, before pulling out and jerking himself off over Killer’s ass, shooting ropes of cum over the red handprints. “F-fuckk,” Killer stuttered as he went limp against the sheets, finally sated and completely wiped out. Kid groaned and collapsed on his back next to him.

“Sorry for calling you a slut,” Kid mumbled, “and a bitch. Got sort of lost in it.”

“It’s fine,” Killer sighed, rolling to rest his head against Kid’s chest, “it was a good fuck anyway.”

“Mmm,” Kid agreed, “I missed you. It’s been a while”

“Yeah well,” Killer sighed, “it’s not just you, if that makes a difference. I haven’t fucked anyone.”

“For real?” Kid sat up, “you really haven’t gotten laid? Cos of… the change?”

“I just… haven’t felt confident,” Killer admitted, rolling away to hide his blush.

“Well, you can always come to me,” Kid laid back down and spooned him, getting some of his own cum on his tummy, “you’re my best mate Kil, you can always come to me, for anything.”

“I know Kid,” Killer pulled Kid’s arm to hold him a little tighter, “I know.”

“Don’t wait till you’re suffering next time, aye?” Kid laughed, “let me take care of you.”

“Okay,” Killer yawned, before pulling the blankets up over the two of them, too tired to clean up. It was already so late before he came in here. “Now shut the fuck up and go to sleep.”

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[zomboivex]

Small morning ramble about Rui.

These are all basically opinions so feel free to disagree but tbh I don’t really wanna hear it

This dude is never breaking his curse.

Nothing in the game hints to that even being an option for him. He, himself, doesn’t really talk about breaking his curse. He seems to have accepted that this will always be his life (and if my thoughts are correct, boy will it be a long life).

The reason Rui is such a fascinating character to me is because he’s coping with the fact that he will always be this way. He’s always going to have this curse and he’s trying to accept and live with that.

In the recent chapter where we actually see his curse go into effect - his reaction isn’t like Lyca’s (who was devastated at the seemingly betrayal of acceptance) but he was very much defeated and numb. He’s seen this reaction before. He’s been treated as a monster before. He wasn’t shocked by the reaction he got for draining a life. He was numb to it. He stood there, seemingly unable to let go as he was called a monster.

But see what I love about Rui is that

He has so carefully crafted himself to be reliable to others. Listening? No problem, he’ll let you talk about all your problems and don’t worry for one second about any of his (serious) issues. Of course, he’ll complain about his captain or Moby. But- that’s normal stuff to complain about. He tries soooo hard to make himself seem like a normal guy by flirting, joking, complaining about normal things. Then he listens to others, will do endless tasks (like gardening, cleaning up the house, running a bar, trying to run a bed and breakfast type situation, taking care of the duties Ed doesn’t or straight up refuses to do), and generally he keeps his own emotions locked deep down.

Hell his fucking stigma is a benefit to others! Even if ‘temporary’. He can still take away your pain and exhaustion??? That’s- pretty fucking helpful. And it sums him up so well as a character.

He does everything for the comfort of others. Even if temporary. Because he knows anything he does will immediately be disregarded the moment someone sees his curse in action.

Despite this, Rui pretends to always be cheerful and positive. Even if deep down he’s hurting so bad. And there’s nothing anyone can really do about it. He wears the mask of someone who’s cheerful and reliable and steady. Because what else is he supposed to do in his situation?

God I seriously love him so much as a character. I’d write a more cohesive thing for him but I want a few more Rui crumbs before I fully commit to writing a character study on this tragic fuck.

Tbh I wish I still had access to my old tumblr but I forgot the email and password I used to set it up lol so I can’t pull my character study of Narancia from over there onto here but shhhh

Anyways!!!

I struggle with writing Rui as intimate with others not on account of his curse (because there are no-touch ways around that and I wish more people would focus on that aspect ahem me- I’m more people ) but because this guy would never allow himself the chance to be intimate with others on account for what he is. It’s not from fear of touching them (though that poses a problem for fucking sure) but because he doesn’t feel he deserves this.

Okay I’m gonna stop rambling because I have so much to say but also I’m feeling very unwell today LMFAO

[feartoxinjelloshot]

I would love to know some backstories of the Rogues in your Batman AU

this is a very broad question considering how many rogues i have in my au, so i'll start out by linking some of them which i have elaborated on before to various degrees, and if you have further questions about them feel free to ask specifically:

POISON IVY

SCARECROW - SCARECROW - MORE SCARECROW (his backstory is kind of convoluted and scattered around. i get a lot of asks about him)

BLACK MASK (somewhat outdated - i intend to update it at some point)

MAD HATTER

KILLER MOTH

NINA & DEIRDRE

CALENDAR QUEEN

PROF. PYG

and here's the cliff notes on some obvious players not mentioned above - again, if you want more specific elaboration, or anyone else i forgot, feel free to ask:

THE JOKER: i guess this is a bit of a spoiler if you like ambiguity, but i've said it on this blog many times already so there's really no point in being coy about it - the joker in my au is an extra-dimensional eldritch creature who, quite literally, eats chaos to survive. it possesses the body of an ACE chemicals employee named Jay Doe after it influences them into jumping into a vat of acid where "the veil between worlds is thinner in that unstable substance" (per writing of mine). the joker is obsessed with the balance between comedy and horror that generates the "food" it needs to survive in our dimension. very few people in-universe are aware of the joker's origin or the true extent of its abilities. it is a genuinely unlikable creature bur very lonely at its core, as it is the only one of its kind on earth and cannot easily exit back to its old dimension. Jay Doe's soul is still around, though kept separate from the body via storage in the joker's personal pocket dimension, the "funhouse" (mainly used for storage to enable looney-tunes esque physical gags, but can be put to much more sinister use. this funhouse is also where the joker puts jason todd.)

HARLEY QUINN: Harleen Quinzel was a fairly average woman who made a comfortable salary at her job working as a psychiatrist at Arkham State Hospital. She was also deeply miserable. The constraints of the cookie-cutter life and career path she was forced into by the expectations of her controlling mother and other adults around her instilled a pervasive repressed need to escape from her own life and "do something wrong". She encountered the joker during one of his on-and-off stints in captivity at Arkham and immediately - and unwillingly - became infatuated with the sense of unique nonconformity he seemed to embody. The following affair between them was less about the joker's manipulation and more about harley grasping for power in the only way she knew how (through the joker did inarguably have his own part in it, because he liked harley and saw her as a potential cure for his lonliness). Eventually it culminated in her own descent into the same acid vat that had "transformed" Jay Doe, but rather than possession, harley emerged with a... heightened sense of clarity about herself and the world around her. The acid also had some malignant effects on her, gradually causing her skin to rot and fall off her body. She compensated by sewing herself back together with colorful patches of fabric. I wrote a rather long fanfic about harley and the joker's relationship (and following breakup) for 2023's nanowrimo, which sadly has not been released yet because i am still editing it. hopefully one day soon it will reach the public.

THE RIDDLER: The riddler's conception is a little fuzzier than other backstories I have, because I'm still working on it, but the main gist of it is that Edward Nygma (born E-------- Nashton) spent many years essentially singlehandedly raising his younger brother, William Nashton. They lived alone with their father (their mother having left the picture years earlier) who was a chronic deadbeat, physically abusive, an alcoholic for good measure, and altogether put very little effort into raising his own children. Edward was a very strange child from the get-go and over time and circumstance his asynchronicities developed into a compulsive need for control and structure. He turned to his most genuine talent - puzzle-solving - and put it to work where it seemed most logical: computers. Edward became a very dedicated and effective hacker, largely by his methods of viewing code as a literal cipher or riddle that he had to untangle to "win". He gained a genuine reputation for the obscure and highly guarded databases he was able to gain access to, which generally served to inflate his ego. Meanwhile, two things: one, the more stress he was put under, the more his obsessive worldview began to take over other parts of his life, especially interpersonal ones - especially his interactions with his father and other antagonistic figures in his life. he became convinced that if he could "solve" the "pattern" of their behaviors, he could escape their abuse or in a sense control them. Two, these insecurities expanded to target his deeply protective instincts over his little brother, who around the time Ed was, say, sixteen or so, in a completely random accident, got hit by a car while crossing the street with Edward (who was spared) and later died from his injuries. Edward's father blamed him for this event, despite Ed having no possible control over the situation. The trauma of his brother's sudden death caused Edward's psychological state to degrade quickly and devastatingly. He began to devote his "puzzle-solving skills" largely to esoteric coping mechanisms, and expressed that if he could "find the pattern in the world around [him]" he could prevent an accident "like that" from happening again, to anyone, ever. His obsessions later expanded to focus upon the Batman, who at the time was less of a public figure and more of a local ghost story - the ultimate mystery for Edward to solve, and prove everyone else wrong, and finally win.

CATWOMAN: Selina Kyle's backstory is fairly straightforward compared to the above tales and hasn't been tampered with very much since its original conception. She grew up very poor and in an unhappy household; as a child she spent a lot of time with her kid neighbor Effy Lynns (later Firefly), who was also in a bad familial situation, and they began to view each other as siblings. As adults they moved into an apartment together. Selina was never very well off, but scraped by working odd jobs over the years, most notably a job at the local animal shelter, which she was genuinely happy at - unusual luck for her. She liked it so much, in fact, that she was trying to save money up to finally finish her degree, so that she could start to pursue a career as a veterinarian. During this time she also lived in an apartment above a chain pharmacy. Her "criminal" career was kicked off when her she learned that her downstairs neighbor, an elderly woman who she was fairly close with, had been denied by insurance to receive insulin due to a gap in coverage and, as she couldn't afford a trip to the emergency room, was in danger of dying. As she lived right above a pharmacy, Selina saw the workers going in and out every day and knew what the code to the back door was. She also knew which breaker would turn the power to the security cameras off. Well, her neighbor was too grateful to really care about where she got the medication from, and Selina asked for nothing in return, except to call if she needed help again. Was it against the law? Sure. Was it a crime? No. Selina never faced any consequences for her actions that day, and was instilled with a (perhaps unearned) sense of confidence - she had learned how easy it was to steal. Her ambitions expanded somewhat worrying quickly, though she resolutely stuck to ethical targets - chain stores, corporations, and eventually the homes of the ultra-wealthy. If asked, selina would say - truthfully so - that it was a genuinely good-hearted attempt at redistribution of wealth. What she was less willing to admit was that there was a significant element of adrenaline-seeking and even kleptomania to it that she wasn't ready to confront in herself. She was doing all the right things for all the wrong reasons. The only harm, she supposed, was to herself.

FIREFLY: Like I mentioned in the previous entry, Firefly is the eventual vigilante identity* of Effy Lynns, Selina's adopted sibling. Effy worked for many years in an oil refinery to make ends meet. It was hard, grueling work and the floor workers were treated badly in many respects. One day they were involved in a factory explosion that left them with third degree burns on the right side of their face, neck, shoulder and chest, along with blinding them in that eye and reducing the hearing of that ear. It was later made known to them that the accident was only allowed to occur because of the gross negligence and poor working conditions of their wealthy supervisors. They were also let go by the factory due to not being able to work any more, putting them in financial strife. Understandably, this series of events was a snapping point for Effy, and, inspired by Selina's nighttime activites, they adopted a fire-themed vigilante persona to enact public revenge against the corporate conglomerates that were ruining theirs and other people's lives. Effy's backstory is fairly vague and subject to change, since it's more recent than the others and therefore less developed. I haven't decided if their suit is their own invention or if they collaborate with some other source to design it.

*"Firefly" is actually just their full first name. Friends and family call them Effy more often. They start to embrace use of their full name when things go off the rails, though it only becomes known to the public after their (hypothetical) eventual apprehension.

MR & MRS FREEZE: Victor Fries and Nora Selvam met at a scientific convention in England in their twenties. Both of them had immigrated with their families in their teens, Victor from Russia and Nora from South India. They clicked immediately and were married a year later. Their story together doesn't deviate very far from typical batman canon, with the notable exception that in my version of the story, Victor is the one with an incurable terminal illness. Per usual Victor and Nora work together to attempt to push forward the research on Victor's illness, moving to Gotham somewhere in the process. Over time they both get more desperate, facing their own respective demons: Victor becomes desolate and even suicidal, hopeless as to his own future; Nora becomes erratic and fixated, determined to prove her husband wrong and save him. She takes unreasonable risks for the sake of the research and Victor does nothing to stop her. Victor poses the idea of putting himself in cryostasis until a cure can be invented, not really believing in the idea, mostly just wanting to die in the ice. Nora, though, latches onto the idea and begins working on designs for a stasis machine. She overworks herself to the point where she can no longer recognize dangerous flaws in its internal structure. When the machine is "complete" she has Victor come to the lab and offers to demonstrate the effects of the pod on a butterfly for him. He accepts, curious, and she does, but upon the subsequent unfreezing of the butterfly, it lies cold and unmoving. Frightened and demotivated, they get into a heated, emotional argument, which distracts them fatally from the stabilization alarms sounding on the cryostasis machine. The world turns white. When Victor returns to consciousness his skin is blue and bruised, like a frostbitten corpse, and every breath feels like ice stabbing through his lungs. The lab is encased in an explosion of unmeltable ice, kept supernaturally cooled by the malfunctioning power core of the machine. The lab becomes the only place that Victor can survive in without a cooling suit. The ice in the room is so thick and deep that he can't even see Nora's body inside. But she's in there, somewhere. She has to be. Right...? (Somewhere overhead a butterfly flaps by the skylight.)

TWOFACE: this is another story that is subject to change in the future, because i haven't decided on the exact details, but, Harvey Dent grew up with a physically and emotionally abusive father and an absent mother, as per much of his usual canon. He met Bruce Wayne when they were children and despite going to different schools, coming from different family backgrounds and living very different lifestyles, they made fast and inseparable friends with each other and were joined at the hip for much of their teenage years, even going to college together later in life. As his childhood progressed Harvey became increasingly and uncomfortably aware of "another him" in his head* - an alter, though he had no idea what that was at the time - who called itself Alastor**. Alastor served as Harvey's protector, facing their father's physical abuse instead of Harvey. Harvey was deeply ashamed and resistant to the idea of self-perceived mental illness and did everything he could to feign "normality", i.e. pretend that Alastor didn't exist, or at least that they were the same person. Bruce, being so close to him, had something of an idea that there was something going on with Harvey that he didn't know about - but Harvey was extremely resistant to the idea when Bruce attempted to bring it up, so he left it alone for a long time. Alastor did not have this hesitancy, Thus Bruce and Alastor met and knew each other to some degree without Harvey's knowledge. Despite his generally antagonistic views of almost everyone outside of the system, Alastor developed a begrudging "tolerance" (fondness) for Bruce as Bruce would treat him well in a general sense, having no reason to resent him, especially in their youth. Harvey's adult life also generally follows typical canon: he went to college with Bruce (and a young Thomas Elliot) where they remained close until Bruce suddenly dropped out and effectively fell off the earth, leaving Harvey to complete his studies and attend law school alone. Harvey nor Alastor ever really forgave Bruce for his disappearance and even when he reappeared in Gotham several years later, there was an awkward wedge between them. In his law career Harvey saw significant success, graduating from public defense to assistant DA to District Attorney at an admirable speed. His willingness to call out and prosecute the corruption in the city led to targets being put on his back, but he wasn't deterred and eventually started a campaign for mayor, promising to help make the city into something better. His campaign - though controversial - was ultimately successful. Unfortunately, the attention he attracted by his political outreach included that of a career criminal called the Joker. The Joker, being purely an agent of chaos, did not care about Gotham's politics by any means, except where they were funny to him - and watching Harvey Dent grapple his own brain for control was very funny indeed. Having been entranced by Harvey for several months, the Joker decided he was going to make a laughing-stock of him, on the day of his mayoral inauguration. The Joker broke into City Hall and, with a generous measure of spectacle, tied Harvey to a chair in front of every news camera he could find and ripped the left side of his face off. The Joker's abilities allowed this to be a largely harmless, albeit very painful, process. Harvey's career as mayor was over before it had begun. He escaped, humiliated and panicking, into the depths of the city, where he was not seen again for several months.

*Harvey probably has several other less distinctive alters, but Alastor is the most significant one and the one Harvey is most capable of recognizing.

**I wanted to give harvey's alter a name that wasn't just an altered version of harvey's own name. "Alastor" was taken from a fanfic i read a long time ago and have since hopelessly lost track of. Per google: "In Greek mythology, Alastor is an epithet of the god Zeus, meaning "avenger" or "defender of men". Alastor was also the name of a spirit or force that punished wrongdoing and upheld fairness. The name also symbolizes memory, as it conveys the importance of not forgetting wrongs." In canon, I imagine harvey read about the epithet in a book as a child and was influenced by it. Thus, i suppose Alastor is technically an introject.

[oliveroil112]

GIVE IT UP FOR MY FIRST EVER TRANSFORMERS OC, BREAKER!!!

(if you've even glanced at my main anytime in the past month or so you've probably been expecting this)

He is inspired by theater masks, and as such, the whole inspo for his design is that he has rotating faceplates that each have different emotions! I split them in half horizontally so he can emote more too! His name, Breaker, is based on the phrase "break a leg" and he transforms into a speaker, since they are a fairly common item in modern theater so the actor's voices are better heard.

V2 coloring: He is mostly blue because I've often heard it described as an "emotional" color, but the red is supposed to mimic the red ribbons on theater mask imagery, which is why it's in thinner lines. His eyes are more detailed and faintly glow.

The prototype and current appearance, in that order:

Keep reading for more info!

So, the prototype page, (although the text is mostly unreadable,) is still here mostly to show the mechanics of him! (I JUST REALIZED I FORGOT HIS SCREW MOLE AAAAAA!!!) there are 4 different emotion plates, each in halves; Happy, sad, suspicious, and angry. The four faceplates are shown stored in a circle on his face. When his faceplate turns to switch out for another one, only his optics and inner mouth (of the outwardly visible features,) do not move, staying still in a slightly scary, yet quite interesting way.

Among the other notes that aren't decipherable, i made certain to note that he can only express whatever emotion his face (as a whole) displays, meaning that, though he is an emotional and open book, he can also have items jammed into the gaps to stick his face to a certain emotion. His faceplates are very close to his helm, thus, making it rather easy to jam something in, as long as you can get close enough while keeping him at whatever emotion you need.

One of the reasons this is mentioned is it could be very useful for an enemy to know; Breaker doesn't fight unless he is displaying a negative emotion. (Besides sad and its similar sorts, of course.) if an enemy can manage to get Breaker stuck as happy or sad or a combination that is more akin to those two, then he will effectively be passive. Though this seems like a huge disadvantage, his enemy probably won't think of that to be honest, so he's fine.

Although he can only display to emotion stuck on his face, it doesn't mean he wont be feeling others, he just cannot physically express them, like, at all. Having his faces stuck is an extremely horrifying situation for him, and thus, is a reason he tends not to like people touching anywhere near his face. The experience of a stuck faceplate is especially bad if you think about the fact that when he panics, (which he 100% will be if he cannot change his emotion,) his faceplates will spin/switch faster and faster the more distressed he becomes; meaning you will be able to hear the rattling of his faceplate against the item get louder and more frantic as he begins to absolutely freak out just below the surface.

His antenna is purely because i thought he looked bald and needed something; it is only for vanity but he can still use it to pick up signals.

I have not decided which group he is a part of, or if he even confines himself to one group. He is a caring man who seems a bit eccentric, but he means well. He offers help to those he meets (that are, at minimum, peaceful to him.) and is quite resourceful when the time calls, but he's not much of a fighter. He can make a screech with his speakers (loud, annoying, disruptive,) but it affects him as well, though, he is more used to it. He enjoys a couple of pranks, but he mostly enjoys harmless ones, nothing destructive or mean, just silly things.

To offset all of this lovely personality he's got goin on, i also made him a bit dense, not too much, but it's noticeable. He is fairly awkward in social situations, preferring to be in a small group to socialize, often saying odd or uncharacteristically stupid things when talking to a larger group; The larger the group, the dumber he sounds.

Hope you guys like him! <3

[amazingmsme]

Don’t Be Silly

AN: can’t believe it’s already been a full week & I just about have all of next week fully written & ready to post as well! Here’s some wolf 359 fluff for y’all to enjoy, so let’s hear it for day 7! But first, quick question: can an ai be ticklish? Idk but Eiffel’s about to find out

Eiffel was a talker. Honestly, he could talk about anything if only there were someone willing to listen. Back home, few people cared to listen to his ramblings. Minkowski and Hilbert cared even less. And he didn't even want to try with Lovelace...

Hera wasn't like the rest of them. She would happily listen to him all day, and call him crazy, but he didn't think her interest was forced. No, she had a natural curiosity about her that drew her towards him like a magnet. She often kept him company as he rambled to the empty abyss of space, unsure if there even were any "dear listeners" out there.

She liked listening to him talk. She's surprisingly learned quite a lot from him. About earth, mostly. She supposed it was natural to miss your home when you're so far away from it.

He liked telling her about the things he missed. She didn't quite understand why, as he always seemed melancholy after their talks. But he would speak with such fond excitement, so it must bring him some joy to express his longing.

Today, he was talking about the weather of all things.

"Yup, you really don't know what you have until it's cruelly stripped away from you. But I miss it all. Yes dear listeners, I never thought I'd say this, but I miss allergies! I miss the cottonwood in the spring, in all its shitty, fuzzy glory and I miss the fucking ragweed! I want to go outside and sneeze my ass off and squint at everything I look at because it's too damn bright and I forgot my sunglasses because it was supposed to be cloudy and it's sunny out of nowhere!"

"That... doesn't really sound fun."

"Yeah, well, it's not. But it's at least real," he lamented, fiddling with a knob that did nothing. Or if it did, he wasn't aware.

Hera's breath hitched, and she hoped she could mask it as just a glitch. That was odd. She felt that. It wasn't the first time she could "feel" in a sense. She was deeply connected to her electronic mechanisms and coding, and she would definitely feel if something damaged either. She has sensors all around the ship: in the walls the ceilings, the equipment, she even has a few exterior sensors along the sides and docking bays. She'd felt that odd tingle shoot through her wires on a few rare occasions, but it had always been fleeting. Minkowski pressing random buttons on the motherboard to see what they did, Eiffel fixing a dent too close to a sensor, Minkowski clicking and dragging the mouse across the screen... If she could, she would've shuddered at the thought. She tried to focus on what he was saying.

"And they're always right! I don't know how, but every damn time a patch sprouts up, it rains! Guess that's where they got the name though, right?"

"What?"

"The rain flowers," he clarified, tapping his fingers on some buttons. Truth be told, most of the buttons and dials in the coms room were for show, like the decorative smoke stack on the Titanic. The real controls were localized to a single panel, and she had always assumed they had no effect on her. Now, she was glitching out as she fought the urge to laugh.

"Right, right," she agreed, wishing he would just stop twisting that knob.

Of course, she could never be so lucky.

"I tell ya, there's nothing like a good thunderstorm, a rocking chair on an enclosed porch, a cigarette and a cold beer. I really mean it, that is paradise. You can take your sunny beaches with all that fucking sand, I'm a doom and gloom weather kinda guy. But don't get me wrong! I'd literally kill to be on a nice, secluded beach-" he rambled on wistfully, dreaming of all the places that were better than here. She was having trouble focusing when his other hand tapped the empty keyboard, all the while he still played with that fucking dial-

"Wow, okay, glad my heartfelt longing is so funny," he sassed, seemingly out of nowhere. Then she realized, with subsequent horror, that he was giggling. What the hell was going on with her? She needed to get a grip, or maybe a systems reboot, have Minkowski check her wiring, whatever it was, she'd do that later. It took more effort to stop laughing than she would like to admit.

“N͞-͓̫̬̞ͩͮ́n͚̓̃͆̇͘͞o̲̮̼͍̿̀͠, I wasn't laughing at you!" She glitched slightly as she spoke, which wasn't exactly out of the norm for Hera, but it did make Eiffel pay more attention to what she was trying to say.

"Yeah? Then what's so funny?" he asked, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. Well, at least he'd stopped fiddling with that stupid dial.

"Well, I, uh... Ï̶͈ͣt̵͖͌ͧͥ̎̀’̆͘s̨̯ hard to explain," she struggled to come up with a straight answer.

"Yeah, yeah," he brushed her off, rolling his eyes.

"I promise I wasn't laughing at you!"

"Oh sure, I believe you!"

"Eiffel!" she whined, catching a glimpse of a smile. "I really wasn't! It's just... I don't know, maybe I have a wire loose somewhere." That seemed to make him concerned, which was the opposite of what she was going for.

"Are you okay? It doesn't hurt, does it?"

"No, it's nothing like that," she was quick to put his worries at ease. "But I'd appreciate it if you stopped messing with that control panel."

"Why? This one doesn't do anything," he back talked, purposefully pressing down on a few buttons. "See? Nothing happened!"

He didn't receive a response. Hera was too busy focusing on containing her laughter, but her lack of a response only served to pique his interest.

"Hera? You there?"

"Mhm!"

His smile looked... different somehow. He thought for a second before finally speaking, "Hey so I've got a question. And I've just been dying to know... Can an AI be ticklish?"

The question threw her off guard, and a short giggle slipped out. "Whahat? N-̭͎́n͊͞o, that's impossible! Come on Eiffel, d-̝͈̑dŏṅ̮’t͓͕͌ be silly."

"See, I'm not sure how impossible it actually is. I mean, you're pretty advanced-"

"Why would an AI even be ticklish?"

Eiffel shrugged. "I don't know, why do you feel pain?" Hera scoffed, and okay, yeah, blunt question.

"Probably to alert me to the well being of the ship. But that serves a purpose!"

"Maybe this does too," he taunted, reaching over to twitch the dial and she couldn't help but shriek.

"Eiffel! Dohohon't!"

"I knew it! You are ticklish! You know, they probably programmed you like this so we'd have some form of entertainment up here."

If she could, she'd be blushing right now. "They did nohohot!" she insisted. The worst part was that she really didn't know why, and that sounded like a cruel, ironic punishment they'd inflict on her. Sure, give the rogue AI the most embarrassing human weakness.

Except... she wasn't entirely sure it was a built in punishment. What if they had designed her specifically to feel more human? Or was it truly just the way her sensors reacted to certain input?

"No no, I can see what they were going for! It's like a video game!" he chuckled gleefully, continuing to play with the extra control panel.

"Shut up, noho it's not!" she scolded. He added his other hand to the mix, pressing buttons and flipping switches. She squealed, and the lights began to flicker.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner? Just think of all the fun you've been missing out on!"

"Ahahahactually I haven't been missing out ohon anything," she sassed before a loud squeal burst from her speakers.

"Well I have! I've been curious about this for months!" he exclaimed, continuing to press the buttons randomly.

Months? No, he wasn't serious, he was just saying that to mess with her! He would've asked as soon as the question entered his mind, like today. If he thought she was ticklish, he would've tried something long before now. But then she remembered all the times in the past few weeks where he would press random buttons, flip switches and pull levers at random. He even willingly offered to do repairs on some severed wires, and he made sure to take as much time as possible. She was able to brush off her reactions then, claiming it just pinched a little. Had he known the whole time?

"Wait ahaha second, Eiffehehel did you know?" she accused before he sent her into another giggle fit as he slid the faders up and down on the board.

"I just wanted to test it out and see-"

"You sneaky little bihihitch!"

"Eh, I've been called worse," he shrugged off the insult.

"Why dihidn't you tell mehehe?" The sincerity of the question made Eiffel pause.

"I... thought you knew?"

"How would I know?"

"Uh, because you can feel it," he deadpanned. Hera really wished she could roll her eyes.

"Well, yeah, but I didn't know what it was! I thought it was like... a bug in my system or something!"

"Oh it's a bug alright," he grinned devilishly. "A tickle bug!" To make his point, he pressed as many buttons as he could with his left hand and turned the dial with his right. Hera squealed, and she didn't even know her voice box went up that high.

"Eiffel! Ihihi'm serious!"

"Alright, I'll stop. For now," he added cryptically, but true to his word, he retracted his hands.

Hera panted for "breath," even though she didn't technic need to. But Eiffel understood the need to compose yourself, and didn't call her out on it.

"You're insufferable!" she finally said, amusement still clear in her voice.

"That's what they tell me," he proudly agreed. "So? What's the verdict?"

"Huh?"

"What're your thoughts on... all that," he gestured vaguely with his hand. She really wished he'd stop moving his fingers like that.

"Oh! Um, w̋ͩ-w̵̷̝el̥̺̏l͍, it felt kinda like my whole system was getting shocked, and I'm pretty sure I've never laughed that much before," she began to explain shyly.

"I didn't hear you say you hated it," Eiffel probed a little deeper.

"I̺͙̯ͦ͛̌ͧ-̲͖̭̝Ì̡-̘̣̈́͡͠I̵̜͗͆ͩͪ͜ d̈́ͨ̑̍̊̿̀i̘̳dň̰̯̯́’̭t͟-" Hera glitched slightly, and she started over. "Hate is a strong word." He didn't say anything else; he didn't have to. He just smiled and shook his head.

Hera found herself stuck halfway between excitement and dread for what the future held in store.

[themrswallace]

The haunting of Tottington Hall: Early extension chapter

This I forgot to mention MONTHS ago because yay medicated brain-fog! But in the pre-character backstory post, Tottington Hall always struck me as eerie, in a good way. A little sad. It has history, obviously, and I wanted to play on that besides DL's general ability to see the paranormal and Fluffles and Gromit's natural animal senses.

So this is way back, beginning chapters, timeline stuff, when DL is around 15/-beginning of 16, perhaps the introduction to their magic they've been hiding from Wallace and Gromit, Fluffles knows, but it's big secret from the guys because they're already struggling with the whole Non Fictional human stuff, this is gonna tip them over so unsurprisingly, DL keeps it between the girlies, or at least until things begin to get...spooky. -- The story begins as a classic rodent assumption, noises in the walls, scuttling at night, Hutch complaining of seeing things and general odd goings on. At first, it seems two-fold, rats/little wild animals making their way into the stately home through holes in the foundation, Hutch possibly suffering some late-term effects of the MMOM and having part of Wallace's subconscious, easily explainable things, then it seems like he's taking items from around the house and moving them, talking to imaginary friends, displaying un-Hutch like behavior, so she calls on Wallace and Gromit to check out the place, explore old passage ways, search for secret cubbys, use scanners and such to uncover any reason behind these happenings. Gromit and DL are the first to get the telltale chill of an otherworldly visitor, then Fluffles, and together they use Hutch as the beacon for whatever it is bothering the household.

Throughout this, Gromit notices a youngish-looking woman who he assumes is a maid or caregiver for Hutch when Lady T isn't around. She wonders silently and seems to appear lost whenever he spots her. These moments become small flecks of a past life, ghosts of time leading up to the woman's identity reveal and tragic end, who she is to the Tottington family and why her soul remains, also why she seems so connected to Hutch. Next to that, Fluffles uses some of the Inventor's portable scanning equipment to reveal secret rooms, doorways masked as paintings and wardrobes, fun tidbits that show you just how wealthy these people are, meanwhile, DL follows their gut and unveils the corruption linked to Lady Tottington's grandmother and father. using their semi-stable magic to play out scenes of the past, old memories, listen to conversations long forgotten, also abusing this power to...intrude on prior events/situations/etc between Wallace and her Ladyship, even Gromit, delve into pieces of canon never before witnessed, wanting to know anything and everything of the franchise and those involved before things start to go haywire. This chapter is heavily focused on Tottington Hall, its past, its present, and what we potentially missed during COTWR, even a few secret convo's during/post. Maybe...we also get a little bit of a further betrayal arc...who knows <<

[shi-daisy]

Mutual Obsession

Hello everyone! Welcome back to WaveWave Week! I'm excited to be seeing everyone's awesome creations and ready to bring ya some of mine. Today we have some fluffy smut that Tumblr writing limit made me cut a lot off, but hey it was still fun to write. Hope you all like it!

WaveWave Week- Day 1- Obsession

Mutual Obsession

Shockwave didn't know how he ended up in such a situation but he wouldn't dare question it anymore.

The day was meant to be spent working in the lab, but here he was, lying on his bed as Soundwave used his tentacles to keep him pinned and writhing in pleasure.

No one had known of his obsession with the former gladiator, but he'd been craving an interaction like this for millennia.

It started as a mere curiosity of course. Soundwave was the only one to match their leader in physical prowess and he had the trust of the mech. He wasn't just strong however, Soundwave was also intelligent. Upon his return he'd heard from the others how clever Soundwave was and even saw him in action in the field. Yet, the strong and smart mech did not seem to want any more power nor recognition. He silently took note of everything that happened on the Nemesis, did his duties, and kept silent. It was fascinating to see, and soon Shockwave's fascination for the mech grew.

He thought this was just scientific research, that once he found a logical explanation for Soundwave's silence and his formidable skills he would be satisfied. But soon he found himself staring at him for much longer, enjoying the man's presence even if they were just going over files or discussing strategies.

He longed to spend time with him, to see him without the mask, to place his hands upon the body he'd studied and grown so fascinated by. Or maybe just hearing his voice would be enough. Maybe that would satiate this growing need.

Things came to a head as the purple-haired man was clearing up the lab before Soundwave arrived. Apparently, the Autobots had done a number on Lazerbeak and the poor bird needed a check-up. Despite not being a veterinarian he knew enough to check the critter and spend some time in the spymaster's company.

"Their distress is mostly mental, the wounds are surface level and shall heal in a few days, for now just keep an eye on-"

Before he could finish the sentence the bird escaped his grasp, smacked a shelf above them which caused him to get covered in a clear chemical, and flew out the door. Soundwave stopped him from chasing Lazerbeak. He probably knew just where he'd go.

Shockwave nodded and went over to the lab sink to try and wash the mess over him. He was lucky the chemical wasn't acidic. 'Just what did I get on myself?!'

He wouldn't have to wait long for the answer, as it only took a few minutes for effects to kick and his pale skin to turn red and warm to the touch, Shockwave felt a surge of heat take hold of his body and internally cursed. Hoping that Lazerbeak didn't spill the aphrodisiacs he used on the prediction lizards for breeding.

"I don't think anyone has kept such detailed information of me since the senate."

That deep rich voice nearly made him faint. He turned around to see Soundwave studying some files he found. His files, that Shockwave was supposed to be put away before he got here yet he forgot.

The spymaster still had his mask on but turned to look at him. A mischievous emoji was smirking as he put down the files.

"I…didn't think you'd ever read that."

"I'm glad I did," Soundwave said as he walked towards him.

Shockwave instinctively backed into the wall, Soundwave cornered him there, placing his hand upon his face, brushing away the purple locks that covered his eyepatch, and looking at him directly. "Do you have any idea how badly I've wanted to taste you for all these centuries?"

Had the chemicals not made him turn red he would've blushed even more after hearing that. "You've been obsessed with me as well?" Shockwave asked in his haze.

Soundwave chuckled, it was a gorgeous sound. "You've never noticed? If not for my duties I would spend my days chasing you from dusk to dawn."

He smiled feeling a little lightheaded. Soundwave picked him up and carried him to his room, adjacent to the lab. The spymaster locked the door before gently sitting him down on the bed.

"How do you feel?"

"Happy but also like I'm overheating," Shockwave admitted.

Soundwave nodded. He probably knew what was in those chemicals from the looks of it. "I shall take care of you then."

Shockwave gasped upon hearing those words. He didn't expect the spymaster to take off his mask. His hands trembled as he reached for it, and quickly removed it.

He was beautiful, absolutely beautiful. His dark blue hair fell perfectly upon his face, his eyes were deep purple and he had full lips that looked like they were made to be kissed. The only unusual thing about him was a large scar across that gorgeous face. It went diagonally from his left eye to the right side of his chin. Shockwave didn't care, that he had a scar, though he worried about how his beloved got such a mark.

"It was during my days as a gladiator. We didn't have good medical care…Is it a problem? I can put the mask back on."

"Don't you dare! You're even more beautiful than I've ever imagined."

Soundwave smiled, relieved to hear those words as he crashed his lips against Shockwave's. They fell backward on the fluffy mattress as the scientist gently yet desperately tried to undress the spymaster.

"So eager. I love that about you."

"What else?"

"I love your wicked mind. Don't know how far we would've gotten without you." Soundwave told him as he undressed him. "I love your voice, it's rich and soothing but authoritative. Makes me want to be at your mercy." He whispered in his ear as Shockwave shivered. "I love how gorgeous you are. Primus, you're an absolutely beautiful man."

Shockwave blushed intensely at those words. He never considered himself an attractive man, but if Soundwave said it, maybe he could come to believe it.

Once he was laid bare underneath the spymaster, Shockwave could feel the intensity of his gaze as he summoned the trendiest that he had used in battle. "Your notes mused of what other uses I had for these, want me to show you?"

He could only nod as he felt Soundwave's tentacles slowly wrap all over him. One was around his neck, two of them around his legs prying them open, another was waiting at his lips, eager to be let in, and the last one would prepare him before Soundwave fucked him.

The spymaster chuckled, desire overtaking his gaze, as he groaned in delight at the view before him. He marveled at the sounds that left the scientist's mouth, even if he had it full. The red eye had been shut, as Shockwave was in pure bliss, enjoying what he'd craved for so long.

Even without the aphrodisiacs, he would've been insatiable. Soundwave really knew how to make him scream. He could only grip the sheets as the movements got more erratic and the spymaster began kissing down from his neck to his chest.

"Tell me Shockwave, is this your first time?"

He gasped at that question. Shockwave didn't think it was so obvious. Soundwave smirked as he retracted his tendrils and took the scientist in his arms.

"What an honor to be your first."

Shockwave sighed. "What about you? You know what you're doing, who came before me?"

Soundwave was taken aback by the question, still, he chuckled and pulled Shockwave close. "Those were mere faceless nobles that wanted a gladiator for the thrill. You'd be the first I claim willingly. The first one I'd make love to."

Shockwave wrapped his arms around Soundwave's neck. "I'm sorry you were hurt like that. I'll make sure to heal that ache, and make you feel good."

True to his word Shockwave kissed him deeply as Soundwave entered him in one thrust. The discomfort was menial since he'd prepared him well, yet he was gentle in his movements.

He kissed Soundwave's pretty face, his neck, and his chest, and he ran his hands gently all over him not leaving an inch untouched. "This. I've wanted this for so long. You don't know how badly I've wanted you!"

Soundwave kissed him again, leaving markings on the scientist's neck. "As have I darling. From now on you're mine, now and forever."

"Yes!"

He lost count of how many times they did it, but when exhaustion took over, the sun had set down and all he could do was lay down by the side of his dear spymaster.

"Satisfied?" Soundwave asked with a flirty grin.

"Very much so. You?"

"Mmm, I'll be fine until tomorrow."

"And here I thought you were a controlled professional man."

"There's a lot you know about me darling, but a lot more that you don't. And I can't wait to show you. And to savor you as well."

Shockwave smiled. Satisfied to know that the object of his love and obsession was finally at his mercy. He looked forward to the hours of kisses and study that awaited them.

[hot-on-my-watch]

Silly Notes on Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness  by a Marvel Novice

Well the visuals are just bloody amazing aren't they.

Rachel McAdams also looking great in bright red lipstick.

People are acting like it's normal for space monsters to just randomly appear on the streets of New York - presumably in the MCU it is?

Ok the jumping off the balcony thing was VERY cool.

Does Wanda look like a young Maggie Gyllenhall?

Don't tell me that IS Maggie Gyllenhall with surgery?!?!

Of course. Elizabeth Olsen. I knew that. I established when watching Avengers Endgame. And also remembered that Elizabeth is neither Mary-Kate nor Ashley Olsen. Excellent pop-culture knowledge, self.

The Scarlet Witch reminds me of evil Willow Rosenberg. But perhaps Scarlet Witch was first and comic book nerd Whedon ripped it off a bit rather than the other way around. Bet he did.

I should really watch Wandavision.

Will I watch it before the rest of this film, even?

No, I don't think so.

I'll see if there's another Wanda film though in case I've missed anything since Endgame. 

* confusion when Wanda suggests bringing America "here" because I don't know where "here" is and have forgotten that America is the name of the girl.*

Oh she knew too much, that's why Strange looked confused as well.

Is the Scarlet Witch using her mask to have a cheekbone off with Cumberbatch's Doctor Strange? Because frankly that's not going to go well for her.

Maybe she was wearing that mask in Endgame too and I forgot? No. Or was she? Hmm.

Cumberbatch has got his usual comic book style hair as Strange here but his eyebrows don't entirely match I feel like so someone needed to do something with them.

Oh no on second thought they appeared to be the same colour as his hair and beard generally. But I wonder if something more could have done with gel or an eyebrow pencil though even though he would have looked a bit mental I suppose.

The beard is very sharp-lined in some scenes but seems less so in others.

That was a really harsh way to treat that food seller actually! All he was trying to do is not get robbed!

Stephen Strange was always a bit of a bitch though.

I really like the special effects, especially when they go through all the different universes. 

There's no real need for Doctor Strange to be wearing the superhero outfit at this point but he's committed to the bit. I approve.

I still don't know what the differences are between MCU New York and real New York apart from the obvious it does look nicer.

Maybe I should have watched all of this films in order.

Book of Ashanti? Hahahaha ASHANTI! What song even was that?

Ok book of Vishanti, that's better.

100% knew that was a trap. I have seen pieces of media before. Knew it.

Don't remember Mordo being this hot. Umm.

Cumberbatch's straight sideswept fringe seems to be on the opposite side to Sherlock's curly one, which is a mirror of my own.

I enjoy the alternative versions of the super heroes.

IS THAT PROFESSOR X?

Omg it IS! Long time no see old friend!

Oh god they're dropping like flies.

Of course he's not better than 383 Stephen. Come on! Why would he be?

My attention span REALLY cannot cope with action scenes right now. Sorry Marvel.

This would have been amazing to see at the cinema though.

Has he become injured DIRECTLY ON THE CHEEKBONE?!

Omg America has as well. To a lesser extent.

I mean I suppose that would happen, but still.

Is that a blue patch on the cloak or are we seeing his clothes through it. I want to be seeing his clothes through it for some reason.

Still spectacular visuals of course.

Have YOU not seen films before, Stephen Strange? Stop trusting people that are obviously going to turn against you!

I'm sorry I still can't get over the hand gestures.

Ok I enjoy the "third eye" concept but it looks kinda silly.

I'm still not sure I fully get the thing about being held back by your own fear AND arrogance. I may survey people on this.

He's not actually going to kill her is he?

Oh I see what's going to happen here.

"No one will ever be tempted by the darkhold again." OF COURSE NOT THAT WOULD NEVER HAPPEN.

Nice that the villain turned back in the end though. Like Dark Willow. She learned her lesson.

Could they be together though? Or is it another House and Cuddy situation?

Yay the watch is fixed! And by his own hand, not by magic! Did we learn something about this in the first film? Is it to do with what he's willing to do with magic and not? What he can still do with his hands?

Is he going to see Christine? Is he moving on now?

Nooo a third eye! No they look so weird! Even on Benedict Cumberbatch!

Who's this woman with the purple? It's a look! Oh ok apparently 3-eyed Dr Strange is basically fine. Ok.

So... does this nullify the previous cliffhanger? What now?

Excellent film though, did enjoy it.

[owlbelly]

found an 80s hardcover of Cabal in the thrift store & grabbed it because i had completely forgotten i'd ever read it (which tells you something!!!) & thought "oh yeah i love Nightbreed, i should really read this one"

truly incredible how much the movie is just exactly the book, except you get a little more interiority for Lori & more interesting descriptions of the monsters - i love the practical effects & costuming in the movie but they just couldn't pull off what Barker actually wrote. but oh man this story in either form just epitomizes my love/hate relationship with the dude's work. it's got so much potential. it's so, so bad. Cabal (1988) / Nightbreed (1990) spoilers ahead

i mean come on: queer monster misfit sanctuary vs. the "real monsters" of policing & carceral mental health systems (that enable & provide cover for sadistic humans)? fuck yes. vivid descriptions of wild genderfucky polyamorous kinky mystical creatures living in their huge necropolis? all day long please

but Clive's brilliance is only matched by how much he sucks so we get an incredibly bullshit portrayal of mental illness (what's Boone's deal? we'll never know. it doesn't matter, it only matters that he's Beautiful and Tortured) & a fairly confused sense of the moral standing of various characters/systems. like. are at least some of the Breed not also sadistic killers? what exactly makes them better than Decker or the cops - is it just that they admit to what they do & they're more sexually liberated? would Decker have been accepted if he came to them looking for belonging? also are we meant to think Decker is "mentally ill" - and what does that mean for the narrative - or is the Mask literally a separate entity & does that make him/it a Breed-type monster too?

Boone calls Ashberry a monster (non-pejoratively?) for being secretly some kind of trans ("a crossdresser" but there are some other vague gestures towards gender stuff, Clive doesn't know or care) & then Ashberry, who has been trying to stop the massacre, appears to genuinely want to accept himself & join the Breed, but when he comes into contact with Baphomet (who should recognize his gender stuff!) he gets rejected & fucked all the way up instead. why?

the queerness in this story is all over the place but critics seem weirdly obsessed with a queer reading of Boone/Decker, which i just don't see at all - in the movie there's NOTHING backing that up, in the book there's some bits of narration around them being "like lovers" in terms of their mutual dependence/obsession - but Boone & Lori's very straight relationship is pretty centered! i would be super interested in a queer and/or trans reading of Lori, who actually has some dysphoria (around looking "sweet") & thinks about herself when she's jacking off (iconic...), i just don't think there's anything interesting going on with Boone. obviously the Breed as a whole are a queer allegory & in the movie & background of the book, there are some obviously queer people/relationships, but honestly why tell this queers vs. the straight world story by focusing on an apparently straight, extremely lackluster "tortured man & devoted woman" romance??

and good lord the sex scene. the reason i remembered i HAD read it is that the phrase "he threw his fuck up into her" was burned into my mind & activated me like a sleeper agent when i read it again. honey no. also Boone ejaculating on Baphomet's severed head...oh Clive.

the funniest thing i'm taking away is that i forgot that Boone is supposed to be a bewitchingly gorgeous man with a face no one can resist & the guy playing him in the movie looks like THIS

[horatiovonbecker]

Pardon, I forgot to specify one of the components that makes the trend really oddly specific: The aliens are distributing superpowers as part of a secret plot to eat the people they give superpowers to.

That seems like it should be a classic twist in some genre, probably Tokusatsu (though @tyrantisterror knows those a lot more than I do, and claims it isn't), and I don't know of anything before Psyren (2007-2010) that had the alien power-granter try to eat the heroes or the planet, at least in a 'final boss' sort of way rather than a 'your cursed sword burns your life when you draw it' sort of way.

Which is really weird, because aside from Psyren (reveal was probably in 2010, but appears to have been planned much earlier), there's Mass Effect (2007-2012, the twist may or may not have been planned before the third installment), Puella Magi Madoka Magica (2011), Grimnoir Chronicles (2011-2014, and according to the author it was an independent evolution), and Kill la Kill (2013-2014). Oh, and Worm (2011-2013).

And those are some huge names in popular fiction. Psyren and Grimnoir are the most obscure, and the latter was on the Hugo shortlist. Which is why it's baffling that this trend would be reinvented so many times in such a short period, and without a clear instigator.

JoJo's Bizarre Adventure Part II: Battle Tendency (1988-1989) does have something related, with its reveal that the vampires from Part I were unknowing participants in a vampire pyramid scheme (remotely feeding blood to the beings that made the vampirization masks), as do Chrono Trigger (1995) which has an ancient planet-eating and gene-splicing monster that may or may not have been responsible for human evolution, and Final Fantasy VII (1997), with the long-dead world-eating space monster whose psychoactive blood keeps being used as supersoldier steroids. (Edit: I forgot to mention Neon Genesis Evangelion (1995-1996), with the long-dead world-eating space monster being used as cloning materials for the giant cyborg mechas.)

But, like, it's weird that it would take ten years to mix those concepts, right? Making the secret world-eating alien be giving out superpowers on purpose, rather than the shady labs with access to its corpse?

Anyway.

Hey, do *you* have any idea why "superpowers are secretly distributed by a monster from space" seems to have been reinvented at least four times from 2007 to 2014? I've heard some hints that it might be rooted in Final Fantasy 7, Chrono Trigger, or even JJBA: Battle Tendency, but it's such an oddly specific thing.

I don't actually think it's oddly specific, I think it's a local minima for writers, which comes from a kind of can-kicking.

The problem with "random superpowers" is that it doesn't really make that much sense when you think about it at all, especially when those powers have a lot of very human-centric elements to them and aren't really grounded in any kind of understanding of the world.

So you're a writer, and you're thinking to yourself "well shit, none of this makes sense, it's all a little wonky from a setting perspective, why would powers work like this". And you can just bite the bullet and say "I don't know man, they just do", or you can think of some kind of handwave.

And I would submit that "aliens did it" has a lot of things going for it: these are inscrutable aliens with unknown motives and no morality, so we don't need to (and usually cannot) probe any further, they have the veneer of science and credibility that e.g. "a wizard did it" does not, and so these aliens can work however the settings needs them to work. They're an outcome pump, basically, and they're the closest convenient one. They're an excuse for weird, outside-context things to happen, and for readers to not probe any deeper. They seem legit enough, if you don't look too close. They can stand in for something pretty easily: pretty common for the aliens to be doing this for vague entertainment reasons, or colonialism, or this is some kind of pollutant effect or whatever, or superweapon testing. And again, specifically in the case of superpowers, there's a veneer of science on the whole thing, since aliens might exist, maybe. There's a lot of superhero stuff that has the same scientific veneer to it, so they match well together.

I guess I am, at heart, a believer in paths-of-least-resistance when it comes to writing, reinvention and convergence on solutions, and "aliens grant superpowers" seems to me like a solution to a problem that people would keep reinventing even if there were no prior works, and since there are prior works, you're also getting a lot of influence bleeding in, making the choice for "aliens grant superpowers" a lot easier. Audiences are familiar, they won't balk.

[gentil-minou]

Adrien's Lesson in Kuro Neko: Realizing Who He Really Is

Once again I am here with my nonsense to discuss how not only was Kuro Neko great for giving us insight into our heroes and their character, but it also allowed the characters themselves to learn something valuable about themselves.

In this ask about the episode I mentioned that Adrien's lesson was this:

Make Adrien see that he is more than his mask and that neither are him but that he is the sum of many parts and worth more than he thinks, a direct sequel to Lies and Desperada.

I talked about Marinette's lesson here, but in contrast Adrien's is a lesson many of us knew for a long time but that he never seemed to realize; that neither of the masks he wears are who he truly is. That much is obvious, but it also came a long way in challenging some of the cognitive distortions that have been plaguing him this entire season (and honestly probably since before we met him). We also learn here why Plagg is the best kwami for Adrien, because in addition to showing Adrien unconditional love he is also pretty much his therapist (and this comes from an actual therapist, he pulls a lot of therapy strategies and I will explain djkfhds)

I've mentioned before how in Desperada Adrien falsely internalized the idea that his only worth to Ladybug is as Chat Noir. Then in Lies, he reaffirms that idea in the artroom scene by splitting himself into separate persona, believing that one is more him than the other.

Maybe when I'm clowning around...I'm really me.

It seems almost like Adrien's depression has always been there but was held at bay, until a catalyst to set it off. Throughout Lies, we start to learn that Adrien doesn't even like himself as Adrien. In Truth, we hear this from Adrien after he and Ladybug defeat the akuma:

Truthfully, it's only with you that I have so much fun.

I mentioned in my Adrien has Clinical Depression theory but I forgot to elaborate but this is a huuuuge red flag for me as a clinician, because it implies that Adrien's one source of joy is his time with Ladybug. It's something we often see in depression: over-reliance on one person or one thing is not a good thing and it can often put a lot of strain on the relationship, because if that relationship goes sour it can have a drastic effect on the depressed individual and the other person.

Which brings us to where we start in Kuro Neko. He and Ladybug have been having major communication issues that unfortunately play on his worst fears. And that's part of the reason why he doesn't join the heroes when they're fighting. He has talked himself into believing that he's unneeded and unnecessary to the fight, that he is replaceable.

Putting the rest under a read more because this somehow became longer than my Mari post oops I guess I should have seen this coming.

It's almost like he's waiting for his worst fears to be confirmed, like he's readying himself for it. When I wrote about Marinette having Generalized Anxiety, I mentioned her having frequent cognitive distortions and we can see Adrien has been falling into thinking traps all season. In this episode alone I see mindreading (assuming LB doesn't need him), filtering (focusing on feeling left out as opposed to why more heroes might be helpful), personalization (thinking he's useless when they win without him), and probably more that I'm missing.

(This is why I can understand why Adrien stans feel he's being mistreated this season. They are deeply empathetic with Adrien's plight and feeling what he is feeling. Therefore, it makes sense that when Adrien is feeling excluded, his fans will feel anger on his behalf. That's a sign of good writing in my opinion, because you are supposed to feel what the characters feel, but I digress.)

This is also why he acts the way he does when he does meet up with Ladybug, asking if she's angry to get some sort of a reaction and for her to say something that reassures him how much he's needed (and she kind of has a right to be, given he's missed a few other battles and the one at the beginning of Ephemeral he never explained and he was definitely needed for that one). But Mari isn't a mindreader and Adrien is unfortunately talented at masking his emotions and true thoughts, so she isn't going to give him a favorable response.

So they have their argument, where their lines get crossed and Mari having no idea why he's been acting this way, and gives Plagg his ring. Because to him, all the cognitive distortions he's been dealing with have been confirmed in this moment and he makes a drastic decision because he has hit rock bottom.

This also plays with the fears he has around his father, where Garbage doesn't give him any time and treats him almost as an afterthought. That's why this is the first thing Adrien thinks of: because this is unfortunately what he's grown up learning. He doesn't realize what a healthy relationship looks like, because to him he only knows the twisted love his father shows where his love is conditional and relies on being useful. His worth is determined by how much others need him, and his distorted thinking traps have led him to the wrong conclusion that he is not needed.

Ladybug loves him, but since he only knows what it is like to be spoken to and never heard, he doesn't even really bother trying to explain how useless he feels. His father has just ingrained that sense of uselessness deep into Adrien, who's internalized it to the point where it's what he truly believes. Now he thinks he's useless as both Adrien and Chat Noir, and so he gives up.

Then we get to see my personal favorite part of the episode, a full blown depressive episode (no joke I squealed and started smiling like an idiot dskjfhds)

He removes all reminders, lies awake at night and stays in bed all day, lies about feeling alright and hides himself from others, sequesters himself in his room and avoids school (Adrien! Chooses! To Stay! In his room! And not go to school!), ignores the literal theme park in his room to play video games without actually enjoying himself. Just a mind-numbing activity that requires little brain power, just something to pass the time.

But luckily at that moment Plagg arrives, and I know that we have been praising Plagg for being the MVP of this episode but I don't think folks realize just how incredibly he was because he pretty much single-handedly brought Adrien out of his depressive episode. Take a look at how Adrien changes after Plagg comes back.

His expressions change in that scene alone, he changes his clothes and spends his night doing things and actually participating in the world. As I mentioned here, Adrien venturing out into the world was behavioral activation for him but Plagg effectively does the same thing here by encouraging Adrien to create and doing something new. This is more behavioral activation and that is so awesome to see here because as a therapist this is what I try to do everyday with my depressed clients and seeing this play out on screen is wonderful because now I can point at this scene and go "see~!" with my clients and ahhhh im so happy!!!!

Plagg says he tricked Ladybug into a plan for the Chat Noir but what he also did was effectively trick Adrien into getting out of his depressive slump by giving him something to do. Which is great because he's doing something!!!! He is actively pulling Adrien out of his depressive slump!!!!!! A million camembert for you Plagg, because who knows what might have happened without him.

(Seriously the kwami even uses reflective listening and legit therapeutic techniques I can't believe I have to say this but I think Plagg is one of the best representations of therapists I've seen in any media dfhjdsjkf)

Plagg gives him back his hope. For an optimist like Adrien, that's what he needed most.

And Plagg also knows that the one person Adrien is NOT is that perfect, serious model boy his father thinks he is, and that's what he tells Adrien to act like.

What he's also doing is encouraging Adrien to challenge his distorted thoughts by literally putting them to the text: If I act like someone I am absolutely not, I will finally be useful to Ladybug. It's myself that's the problem. So I will prove it.

But as we and Adrien both learn, that is absolutely not the truth.

And when Adrien acts like someone he's not, it's all wrong. He and Mari's partnership is all disjointed, yes, but it also doesn't feel right to him. And it's because of all the times we've seen him, this is where he puts on the biggest act of them all. He's acting like who he thinks his father and what his distorted thoughts tell him his lady wants (though she proves to him by the end that Cat Walker isn't at all what she wants.)

He does everything perfectly, the way he thinks the perfect hero in Ladybug's mind would want him to be, and he gets proven wrong. Similarly, when I work with clients on challenging their distorted thoughts we look for evidence that proves or disproves it (and most of the time, there is always enough evidence to disprove). That's what happens here for Adrien; he gets evidence that Ladybug doesn't want the perfect hero, she just wants him.

Actually, the best way he saved the day was by doing something Adrien would have done. He returned the child's kitty. The perfect hero Cat Walker would have waited for Ladybug's order, she wouldn't want him to run off. He wouldn't have acted on his own. But Adrien, both in and out of the mask, has shown again and again that above all he is compassionate and he does what he knows he needs to and reunites the kid with their kitty.

He's also able to help Ladybug when she spirals, something that Chat Noir is the best person on the job for. (Allow me to plug my Puppeteer 2 agenda here sdkjfhds). That scene where he's backdropped by the moon is another one that is more Adrien than Cat Walker, if you look at the smile he's showing that is not at all like the professional smile he showed earlier. It's the compassionate one that he shows as Adrien and Chat Noir, and that is why Marinette blushes. Here he's dropped the ruse, for a moment letting his real self shine.

(I do have some qualms about some of the dialogue here but I am saving my judgement of that for when the french dub comes out)

And of course we have the lesson Adrien has been working to build all season, said by the number one therapist Plagg (Portuguese to English translation):

Adrien: Your grand plan didn't directly work, Plagg

Plagg: Are you kidding? It was even better than I'd planned! See you later, serious cat. Finally, we'll get to be the cool cat again!

Adrien: And what if I can't? What if I can't go back to being the old Chat Noir?

Every word there was meaningful. Plagg was right all along: Adrien isn't the serious cat, and he needs to stop those distorted thoughts from telling him that. His compassion was what saved Ladybug and that little kid, not his ability to follow protocols or directions. It's the cool cat he's always been.

And Adrien is of course a little scared and nervous about it, but Plagg reassures him with the most important lines of all.

Plagg: Relax! Be yourself, and he'll be back in two cat jumps!

Adrien: But, does that mean that Chat Noir is my true self? Deep down?

Plagg: You are not Chat Noir! But you're also not Adrien! You are both of them! You are the perfect and successful son in everything you do, but you are also Chat Noir who wants to live your life and have fun! One doesn't exist without the other! I'm glad to have you both back!

Again, I have some issues with the exact wording but the message here is clear. At the end of the day, Adrien is Adrien, in and out of the mask. Despite what his worries might say, he is not useless at all. And it doesn't matter what type of mask he puts up front, it's the person that's at the center of it all. He is both, and after all this time I think Adrien has finally learned to see that too.

The very last scene mirrors the one in Hack-san because once again, Adrien is being vulnerable. But he's still showing one more cognitive distortion (minimization) where he is focusing on what he is doing wrong instead of what he needs from Ladybug, but at least she's learned this time how he's been feeling. There's still some tension at the end, which tells me that there might be some more that needs to be resolved between them. But at the very least, Adrien is beginning to finally see his true worth, not just as Chat Noir, but as himself.

[quodekash]

um. so.

I noticed this ages ago and promptly forgot about it, but when Win takes off his shirt at the start of episode 6, you can see a mark or bruise of some kind on his shoulder.

and win is always sleeping in class. He was late in episode 6 because he overslept. He wore the wrong uniform, was probably rushing to get ready due to oversleeping. We don’t know much about win’s life at home, apart from the fact that his dad wants him to continue the family car business thing (unless I’m remembering incorrectly but I’m pretty sure it’s something along those lines). his family doesn’t want him to peruse music. That could have detrimental effects on his mental (and therefore also physical) health and well-being. And there’s a bruise on his shoulder…

I’m not at all a professional of any kind in these matters, nor do I have any personal experience in anything like this, so hopefully someone with more knowledge/understanding than me can correct me or agree with me, but it seems a lot like there could be from some kind of ab*sive situation??

Or at least there’s probably some kind of problem with Win’s mental health, cos running late, getting dates mixed up, wearing the wrong uniform, really only having one group of friends that you’ve known for years, constantly starting fights to defend yourself and your friends, being so defensive it’s honestly showing signs of vulnerability/insecurity, “I actually feel like I exist today”, constantly appreciating words of affirmation to a deep level like you’ve rarely ever been told that you’re good enough… it all kind of points to some kind of brain… thingy.

In my eyes, as someone with adhd, I think Win probably also has adhd? The running late and sleeping in class and not really vibing with school (and a whole bunch of other stuff) are very reminiscent of adhd, so that could be why his family potentially doesn’t like him/treat him well

I’m not explaining this well, hang on.

the way I see it, Win is a kid with adhd. He’s never really worked well with school, it doesn’t agree with him. He finds himself constantly running late, always getting distracted, his focus narrows in on this one thing, and suddenly it’s 4am and he needs to go to sleep. So he’s constantly oversleeping, running late for school, and zoning out in class so much that he decides he might as well sleep in class because either way he won’t listen to the lesson so he should catch up on missed sleep while he can. And because of all this, his home hasn’t really felt like a home. His family constantly berates him for things outside of his control, continually yelling and screaming at him for being so unorganised, for being so late, for being so hyperactive. And maybe that anger is brought out into the physical world, is let out onto Win. And not just that, they want him to pursue something he doesn’t enjoy, something that isn’t his passion, and they don’t want him to enjoy the one escape he has, the one place he can go to feel safe and included. He starts masking his symptoms when he’s at home, making him even more exhausted cos masking is so freaking tiring, so whether he sleeps well at night or not, he still needs to nap in class. He spends as much time at the music club as he can, practicing as long as they’ll go, to avoid returning home to the screaming. His friends allow him to be him, they let him release his pent-up emotions, they make him feel a warm happiness he doesn’t experience often. These people stick by his side, day and night. If anyone says anything against them, he takes a stand and speaks up for them, he starts fights because that’s the only thing he knows how to do. During the beach trip, he just seems so… happy. Content. We never see him napping during the day. There’s never a moment where he’s yelling and defending and fighting. He’s friendly and chill and collected and alive. He’s not exhausted from masking, day in and day out, because he doesn’t have to around this group of people. He’s safe, as long as he doesn’t have to be at his house.

As for the inevitable fight… I’m not sure what it’s gonna be about, but Win probably explodes because he’s been having a lot of stuff building up at home that he hasn’t told anyone about, or because a lot happened on that particular day, or something along those lines.

idk if anyone will agree with any of this but it makes a lot of sense in my mind and I think it explains a lot, so I figured I should share it.

[geekgemsspooksandtoons]

Jesus Christ, "Rugged, I can't believe I forgot the term and I love. That's the best way to describe Diablo. That's why I like him, or one of the few details with his design. The later ones are usually "Clean shaven" in a sense. And it's been a long time since I watched Prey. I would assume Feral has some "Hairy" parts or anything. I think Diablo's just stuck with me because of that back hair. You can legit brush that shit or something.

But yeah, again, we more and fuck, I realized I made the fuck up by saying "Harry" instead of "hairy" I now realized what I did wrong. But yes, more Yautja that look rugged. It makes them seem more I guess real. But yes, the sweaty stuff too. I would assume being under that bio mask in hot conditions isn't always the best. Again, Stan Winston praise and how he made the Predator feel alive with the effects.

I'm so glad you reblogged this because this is perfect. I always appreciate you liking my edits or posts.

You know what I like about Diablo's design in the original Predator? The Jungle Hunter, that's who I'm talking about. I've been thinking of making this silly post and you...thirsty Yautja lovers may like this.

There's this one aspect I love about Diablo's design.

It's the fact HE HAS HAIR. Like BODY HAIR.

Sorry to use statues but they are meant to be very detailed and accurate to his look. But I'm being legit. Like, and this is something I've noticed with maybe almost every Predator after Diablo. That none of them have body hair. And I only noticed this years ago that Diablo has like a big chunk of it on his back.

Sorry to use the McFarlane figure as a reference. But I've noticed that for years and it stuck with me. Like, the idea this dude has chest and back hair. And the others feel like...I shouldn't say naked. Should I call it body hair?

Like...we don't know Diablo's age. I assume he's an Elite and he's been around for a long while. If he was human, I envision him being a 50-year-old who's been hunting in Central America for years. Like, that kind of age range near Dutch's team. Even though Dutch is 39 during the film but still.

This is such a silly aspect I wanted to talk about. Because I have this silly post I put in my drafts concerning my own Predator/Yautja. But it's some spoilerish stuff. Yet the idea Diablo has body hair like...this dude is MANLY. This is strangely something I want on more Predators/Yautja.

Wait, maybe I should count Greyback because they essentially used Diablo's design. Fuck, I sadly don't think so. Or a little, it's hard to see. And I don't want to use figures as a reference because those are usually reused molds. But trust me, Diablo is a harry dude.

Anyway, hope you people who are thirsty may like this detail. Unless you already knew about. You folks will likely laugh at this post or find it confusing. But seriously, it's something I wanted to speak about. It's not a huge detail. Or maybe it is.

[jamespotterthefirst]

Umbrella (Ethan x MC)

Book: Open Heart, Book 1 Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende) Word count: 800 Rating/Warning: T/Slight Language  Prompt: #96. “I brought you an umbrella.”

Premise: Dr. Ramsey always looked as though he was trying very hard to ignore her. It turns out, he pays more attention than she knows. 

A/N: Thank you, anon! Sorry it took so long! This takes place pre-PITA/ Miami. 

“You should go.”

“I can stay.”

“Your shift ended hours ago. Don't set yourself up to become a hopeless workaholic.”

Lilac snorts.

“You're one to talk. When was the last time you worked your regular hours without going over, Dr. Ramsey?”

Ethan summons an impassive mask. Inwardly, he's impressed with her unparalleled wit and silver tongue. The corner of his mouth twitches in amusement. Despite all of this, he crosses his arms, fixing her with a chastising look.

“I'm serious. Go home and get some rest. I can handle it from here.”

Her own amusement flickers off at once,  like the flame of a candle. At once, she regards the sleeping form on the hospital bed. Naveen, looking small and frail, breathes peacefully in his sleep. Ethan follows her gaze, feeling the same horrible stab that has become customary every time he sees his dying mentor.

“I'll watch over him,” Ethan assures her.

“I know,” Lilac returns quietly, unable to look away from the older doctor. “I just hate leaving him like this.”

In the subsequent silence, Lilac releases a quiet, steadying breath, mindful to keep it from his notice. Ethan did notice, his senses hyper aware of her in the small room. Everything about the brilliant, caring intern beside him captures his attention so determinedly, even in her absence.

As though sensing his gaze, she slowly turns to face him, green eyes locking with his. Their effect on him makes itself known in the dip of his stomach. Heat blooms up his neck, settling at the tops of his ears. His pulse quickens, becoming an irritating thundering beat against his hearing.

Lilac bites her lower lip, her brow furrowing in thought. With a brief flash of panic, he wonders if she somehow knows what he’s thinking.

Her.

More often than not, he’s thinking of her.

Luckily for him, their attention is stolen away by the patter of rain against the window, growing fiercer and more insistent by the second.

“Shoot. I forgot it was going to rain,” Lilac comments.

“I'll drive you.”

She shakes her head at once, giving him a reassuring smile. “Thank you, Doctor, but I'll be fine. I’m only ten minutes on the T.”

Ethan knows better than to argue against her. “Still, it’s pouring out there,” he says as he glances out the window. “Stop by my office on your way out.”

This makes her pause, the skeptical look on her face entirely too endearing.  “I’m almost scared to ask why.”

“I brought you an umbrella.”

Lilac blinks.

Then blinks again.

“You said you have a bad habit of not checking the weather before you leave every morning,” he explains. “You rarely know when it’s going to rain and always forget to bring one.”

Ethan’s proclamation seems to stun her even more. After several, agonizing seconds of silence, he begins to wonder if he was wrong in saying anything. Then, with a start, she seems to recover.

“You remember that?”

“I do.”

“I said that to Bryce months ago in the staff lounge,” she continues. “You were getting your coffee, looking like we were annoying the hell out of you.”

“You were.”

This much was true. The suave way the surgeon had leaned against the refrigerator, his muscular arms crossed across his chest for Lilac to notice had grated on Ethan’s nerves. The charming smile Lahela shot her as he taunted her had made Ethan grip his mug with so much force, he had been surprised it hadn’t shattered. Back then, he had attributed his irritation to the fact that his coffee machine had been broken.

“Anyway, it’s on my desk.”

Lilac considers him for a moment, her lush bottom lip caught by her teeth in that maddening way. She seems to decide something as a devious, coquettish smile illuminates her face.

“You’re being nice.”

“What?”

“You’re a kind, considerate boss despite the ‘fuck off’ demeanor you give all the interns.”

“I am not–”

“Too late. You’ve revealed your true colors, Doctor Ramsey. The whole hospital will know by tomorrow morning.”

Ethan rolls his eyes and she laughs at the reaction.

“I just don’t want my top intern to willfully die of pneumonia. We are far too short-staffed as it is.”

An impressive eye roll paired with a winsome, amused smile is the last thing Ethan sees as she heads for the door. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Ethan watches her go, allowing the repressed smile to finally break through. It lingers long after she is gone.

“A rare Ethan Ramsey smile,” a weak voice comments from behind him. “Maybe miracles do exist after all.”

Ethan schools his features back to his default impassive expression as he turns to face his mentor. Naveen’s eyes are half open, as though his lids are far too heavy to open all the way. They still manage to shoot Ethan a knowing look.

“That Doctor Allende is a delight, isn’t she?” the older doctor asks in a casual tone.

“I can’t imagine what you mean,” Ethan returns dryly.

“I haven’t seen you smile like that in weeks.”

[wolferine]

Heart Skips a Beat - Part 2

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: Natasha faces her worst nightmare when a rescue mission goes wrong…

Warnings: Violence, blood

Word Count: 1837

Part 1

Tags: @blkmxrvel @blackxwidowsxwife @marvelwomen-simp

When Natasha sees your eyes close, she finally comes back to her senses. She squirms away from Steve, crawling under an ambulance and making her way towards you. She ignores Steve telling her to stay put and doesn’t hear Clint telling police officers the direction the bullets came from. All she can think about is bringing you to safety.

The ambulance engine is still running, causing its underside to reach temperatures that make Natasha feel like she is hiding in a furnace. She holds her breath from the fumes as she crawls to the front of the vehicle, throwing her arm out and reaching for your hand.

“Y/N!” she screams. “I’m right here! Hold on!” Her fingertips brush yours and she grabs onto your wrist tightly. You’re bigger and heavier than her, but the adrenaline gives her strength. With a massive heave, she drags you under the ambulance. You smear through the puddle of your own blood and it soaks through the back of your shirt. 

There isn’t even enough room for her to lift her head, but she grabs onto both your arms, digging her elbows into the ground and crawling backwards. “I got you, Y/N. I got you,” she pants. But the lack of space and your deadweight make it impossible for her to pull you all the way through, so she backs out from under the ambulance. “Steve, help me!” she shouts.

“Move!” Steve says to her, although his shoulders are too broad to fit in the narrow gap. However, his arms are long enough to reach both of your hands, and all it takes is one big tug for you to come sliding out from the ambulance. 

Your eyes fly open suddenly, awakened by the agonizing pain coursing through your shoulder like a lightning bolt. You scream, and as much as it makes Natasha’s heart hurt, she’s glad to see that you’re still alive. 

“You guys need to get out of here right now!” Clint yells. “Take the ambulance!”

Steve pulls you into a standing position and wraps his arms around your waist, lifting you onto his shoulders effortlessly. You flop over him like a ragdoll, pain pulsing in your stomach when you bump against his chest.

BOOM.

A bullet shatters the sideview mirror of the ambulance.

“Go, go!” Natasha urges, putting herself between the danger and you and Steve. Steve runs with you to the back of the ambulance and flings the door open. There is no gurney, so Natasha helps him lay you on the floor and climbs in after you.

“Stay with Y/N. I’ll drive,” Steve offers, going around to the front. “Clint, we’re taking Y/N to the Quinjet! Hold the scene down!”

“Copy that!” Clint is just as concerned for your safety, but he knows you’re in good hands. Steve jumps into the driver’s seat and throws the ambulance in reverse.

BOOM.

The windshield explodes.

“Let’s go!” Natasha screams, ducking her head.

“Hold on!” Steve backs into a sharp U-turn. The tires screech as they find traction on the road to accelerate forward.

Natasha practically lays on top of you to prevent you from rolling around. From a shelf, she grabs a handful of gauze packets, tearing them open with her teeth. She rips your shirt open and presses the gauze first to your shoulder, then another to the side of your stomach. You’re completely soaked in blood and it continues to pump out of you with each heartbeat. Your face has faded to a sickly pale. 

“N-Nat,” you whisper, trying to move but pinned down by the pain. “N-Nat—”

“Shh, it’s okay,” she comforts. “Just keep your eyes open for me, okay?”

You see the blood smeared on her face, her neck, and her hands, too delirious to remember that it’s yours. “A-Are you h-hurt?” you stammer.

Natasha wants to laugh and cry at the same time. You’re so in love with her that even in the face of death you don’t even think about yourself. “No, I’m fine,” she says, grabbing onto your hand and interlocking your fingers. She looks over at Steve, veering through parked cars and roadblocks. “Can we hurry it up a little?” she asks in panic, even though she knows he’s driving as fast as he can.

“I’m trying!” Steve swerves around a fire hydrant and the sudden movement jolts everyone in the ambulance. Natasha presses down on you too hard and you grunt in pain.

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes. “We’re almost there. We’re almost there.”

Your vision fades into fuzzy shapes and blurred colors. Even breathing seems to be too much of a task for you. Steve parks behind the Quinjet and comes around to help carry you in.

“Do you need me to go with you?” Steve asks as he lays you across the back seats of the Quinjet.

“No.” Natasha shakes her head. “Stay and help Barton.”

Steve doesn’t even try to argue. “We’ll find who did this, Nat. I promise.” He goes to the controls at the front and presses a few buttons. “The coordinates for the Tower are set. You’ll autopilot all the way there. Just make sure to update the medical team on Y/N’s condition.”

“Thanks, Steve.”

“Everything will be okay.” He places his hand on Natasha’s shoulder for a moment before jogging back to the ambulance. As soon as he’s off the Quinjet, the door raises shut and the engines blast on. You’re several states away from New York, but at the speeds the plane can travel, you should be there in minutes. You just have to hang on until then.

Natasha leaves your side only to grab more gauze, pressing it against your bullet wounds to slow the bleeding. She rolls you to your side so there’s no pressure on your front or back, but grimaces when she sees that your back looks as bad as your front.

“N-Nat,” you try whispering again, but she is quick to shush you.

“Not now, okay? Just stay awake for me, Y/N.”

You’ve never felt so weak before. It feels like you were hit by a bus and ground up by its tires. Your mind processes in slow-motion—probably a side effect of the blood loss—and you already forgot how you got into the Quinjet. But the physical pain isn’t your greatest concern anymore. You just don’t want to lose your fight and leave her.

Natasha fits an oxygen mask around your face and the cool air is comforting, but you know your time is ticking away. You don’t notice the Quinjet hiss to a landing or acknowledge the team of doctors suddenly hovering over you.

“We’ll do the surgery in room six!”

“Prep a blood transfusion!”

“Two gunshot wounds from a large-caliber gun!”

The doctors move you to a gurney and wheel you off the Quinjet. Natasha holds onto your hand as they take you to the surgery room, but a doctor stops her from entering with you.

“No, Romanoff. You gotta stay out here. We’ll take it from here.”

Natasha doesn’t fight back, letting your fingers slip through hers as you disappear behind the doors.

***********************************************************************

“Any updates?” Clint and Steve finally arrive a few hours later, but you’re still in surgery.

“Not yet.” Natasha paces the kitchen anxiously. Although she found the time to wash your blood off her hands and face, she hasn��t changed out of her uniform yet.

“Nat, you should get cleaned up. Y/N isn’t going anywhere,” Clint says.

“I know, I just…I want to be there when—” She can’t finish her sentence, falling into Clint’s arms and crying into his shoulder.

“Y/N is a fighter, remember?” Clint says, rubbing her back.

“But the amount of blood—”

“Super soldiers don’t go down easy,” Steve reminds her. “Y/N will pull through. And besides, you’ll be there to help with the recovery.”

Natasha nods, pulling away from Clint and wiping her face. “I’m sorry I froze when I saw Y/N get shot—”

“What are you apologizing for?” Clint asks.

“I don’t know—I put you all in danger because I couldn’t get myself out of the way—” she hiccups. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Steve assures. “In fact, you were the one who dragged Y/N to safety, remember? I couldn’t fit under the ambulance and Clint was just sitting around like a duck—”

“Excuse you,” Clint interrupts, and Natasha smiles thinly.  

“So, did you find who did this?” she asks.

“Uh—” Clint and Steve look at each other awkwardly. “Natasha, we—”

“Did you find them?” Natasha repeats with more force. Clint motions for Steve to explain.

“That’s the thing,” Steve says. “We don’t know who did this. We scoped out the whole area with the police. We went out more than a mile, but we couldn’t find anything. No shell casings, nothing.”

“Oh, so you’re telling me a ghost shot and tried to kill Y/N?” Natasha scoffs.

“No, we…” Steve tries to find the right words. “We think it was a setup, maybe like a hired assassin or something.”

“Who would want to kill Y/N?” Natasha asks.

“That’s what we need to figure out.”

Natasha knows you have a lot of baggage from your past, particularly when you were forced into illegal covert operations by the government. But it’s been a long time since then. You became your own person and changed your life for the better. Unfortunately, not everyone sees the side of you that Natasha and the Avengers do.

When Clint and Steve leave to shower and change, Natasha finally does the same. She dresses in clean clothes and curls up on your shared bed, inhaling your scent through the pillow and blankets.

Sometime later, Clint visits and knocks on the door. “Hey, Nat? Y/N just got out of surgery—” He doesn’t even get a chance to finish his sentence and is almost run over by Natasha as she hurries over to the medical bay. She doesn’t know which specific room they’re keeping you in, but it’s like she’s drawn to your very presence and finds the correct one instantly.

You lie upright in the bed, propped forward with pillows so there’s less pressure on your back. Your right arm is in a sling and your entire torso is wrapped in bandages. An IV drip leads into the veins on your hand, while a blood pouch sends blood into the vein inside of your elbow. You have an oxygen tube up your nose and looped around your ears.

“I heard the doctor went a little overboard on the anesthesia,” Clint says from behind Natasha, startling her. “You know, with the super soldier serum and everything. Y/N will probably be out of it for a while.” Natasha walks to your side and kneels, gently taking your hand. Your skin is clammy and colder than normal, but your pulse beats strongly.

“I’ll be here as long as it takes.” Natasha raises your hand, mindful of the wires around your wrist, and kisses your fingers.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Click here for Part 3!

AN: Thanks for the amazing support from everyone! Definitely didn’t think I’d get that kind of response, but I’m extremely grateful for you all. The next part will reveal the identity of the shooter, so I hope you’ll stick around for that. :) Peace out!