#it's completely mental and i remember loving it as a kid...sure i had it on DVD...

[starleska]

fellow British folks, did you ever watch the movie Tooth (2004)? until recently i was convinced i just hallucinated it, but i've found you can buy it on a few streaming services...it is a Christmas movie and i remember it being completely deranged 💀

[loonylupinblack3]

Period Trouble

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader

Warnings: swearing, nothing else i think?

Summary: you wake up with your period and are forced to go on a mission with Logan of all people

Word count: 2.4k

A/N: literally obsessed with this man rn so ofc i had to write about him. also wolverine has enhanced senses including smell but its like…. barely shown in the movies so i had to search it up to be sure, and some part of me still doubts it but for the purposes of this fic he does have it

You woke up with a groan, immediately curling into a ball. You were early. You were early and you hadn’t emotionally or physically prepared for having your period today, yet the world seemed ready to punish you, burdening you with an early cycle.

You checked the time, cursing every god and deity you knew when you realised you were supposed to have woken up half an hour ago. Wincing, you got up, your body screaming at the movement. Already your stomach was aching, the ghosts of cramps to come caressing your body. 

There was knocking at your door, quiet yet firm. You already knew it was Storm on the other side of the door, no doubt in search of a reason why you failed to get up on time. It was going to be a long day.

You yelled out to Storm, promising to be out in five minutes, and got up, groggily looking for your clothes. When you’d tamed your hair and brushed your teeth, you exited your room to find Storm waiting on the other side, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed.

She took one look at you and sighed. “What are you wearing?”

You looked down perplexed. “....my clothes?”

She raised her eyebrow. “You’re on a mission today, remember?”

Fuck. You nearly let out a whine. You were not in the mood to go skulking around doing Xavier’s bidding when you had a constant throbbing pain assaulting your stomach, unreasonable mood swings, and exhaustion weighing you down.

Storm sent you a questioning look. “You up for this?”

The mission was nothing big. Professor X needed you to collect some sort of rare herb that had recently been shipped into the nearest city, something he needed to complete a super secret experiment you weren’t privy to. He’d just asked for help and you’d volunteered.

Oh how you regretted that decision now.

“Yeah I’m fine,” you muttered. “Let me just get changed real quick.”

Getting into your previously decided upon outfit, a plain inconspicuous one intended to blend in, you left your room again, this time with no complaint from Storm. Your stomach gave an uncomfortable clench and you sighed, making a mental note to find some nurofen before leaving for the mission.

“Why aren’t you in your outfit?” you asked, just realising Storm wasn’t wearing what you two had agreed upon yesterday.

She winced slightly. “Can’t go. Filling in for some classes.”

Your face soured but you tried not to hold it against her. Storm loved her students, and given the choice of helping them or Xavier with a low level mission, she’d obviously choose her kids. You couldn’t blame her exactly, but it meant you’d have to go on this mission alone, while not impossible by any means it would make it slightly more difficult.

You sighed. “That’s okay. I can go alone.”

When Storm winced even more your eyes narrowed in suspicion, following her with caution. “Storm…..”

She sighed guiltily. “Xavier didn’t want you to go alone. The herb’s too valuable.”

You tilted your head slightly as you entered the house’s foyer. “So who am I going with then?”

Storm’s eyes darted ahead, and you followed her gaze to find Logan Howlett leaning against the wall, hands in the pockets of his jeans. He smirked at you, “you’re looking at him sweetheart.”

You resisted the urge to groan, instead sending Storm a dirty look. You didn’t necessarily dislike Logan, but he was a lot to deal with, and you were already tired from your day that had barely begun.

You couldn’t say all that with Logan standing there however, so you muttered a, “lovely,” and walked past the man to the garage.

He followed you silently, no quip or smart ass comment which was strange for him. You’d just entered the garage, heading towards one of the cars, when you glanced back at him and found Logan stopped in the doorway, staring at you with a frown on his face. Or rather, a deeper frown than usual.

“What is it?” you asked him, standing at the hood of the car.

Logan’s eyes roved your body, searching for something. “You’re injured.”

It was your turn to frown. “What? No I’m not.”

He took a step forward, almost as if he was planning on looking for your alleged injury himself. “Don’t bullshit me Y/n, I can smell your blood.”

You made a face. “What are you talking about…..” you trailed off when you realised it, perhaps the most mortifying moment in your life.

Logan could smell your period blood. He thought you were bleeding from an injury. 

You cleared your throat, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I’m fine. Let’s go.”

He scoffed, walking towards you until you were face to face. You tried to step back and felt the hood of the car against your legs. “I can smell the fucking blood seeping out of you Y/n. I wouldn’t call that fine.”

You gritted your teeth to stop yourself from snapping at him. “I can assure you, I am not injured.”

You moved to walk past him but he caught your wrist, forcing you back into your position pressed against the car. “If you think I am going on this mission with you while you’re wounded, you’re out of your mind.”

“I’m not-”

“Do you think I’m an idiot darl? Is that why you’re denying being hurt while I can literally smell it on you-”

You cut him off. “I’m on my period, Logan.”

He paused, staring at you with an indecipherable expression on his face. You waited for him to speak, feeling embarrassed and furious about it. Why should you be embarrassed of your period? He was the one who was pushing you, prodding you, forcing you to tell him the source of the bleeding. If your answer made him uncomfortable, that wasn’t your fault nor your concern.

Eventually he spoke. “Alright then. Get in the car. I’m driving.”

You scowled at him. “Says who?”

He didn’t even bother looking at you, already in the driver’s seat. “Says me.”

You sighed but didn’t argue further, silently getting into the passenger seat. Logan started the car, reversing it out of the garage and driving down the long winding driveway till you got to the street.

“It’s an hour's drive to the city, give or take,” you told Logan, setting the GPS up on the car.

Logan barely glanced at it, eyes on the road, a firm grip on the steering wheel. He didn’t even respond to you. You sighed and turned away, looking out the window as the scenery passed you in flashes.

As the drive continued, you noticed Logan sending you glances every now and then. If you really focused on them, you’d almost say they seemed worried, concerned even, but they were always too quick for you to tell for certain. You were too preoccupied with your cramps that had started up anyway, and the lack of nurofen you’d forgotten to grab.

Finally, you arrived at the city, driving into the hustle and bustle of the crowded area. Logan’s hand tightened on the steering wheel, obviously not a fan of the traffic the city provided. You watched the stream of people through the window as Logan looked for a space to park, muttering under his breath.

You were mildly entertained at the amount of road rage he had, cursing every car that wasn’t at least 10 metres over the speed limit. His jaw was clenched, hand fisting the steering wheel, yet he still looked at you here and there, like you were actually wounded.

When he eventually found a parking spot the two of you got out of the car and you looked at the address Xavier gave you.

“Should be somewhere along this street,” you murmured, eyes flicking from the piece of paper to the busy street.

Logan moved behind you, so close you could feel your back against his chest, and looked at the paper in your hand. He let out a grunt and moved past you, walking forwards. You frowned and hurried your pace, not wanting to lose him amidst the crowd of people.

Luck was certainly not your side, because soon enough you’d lost him, unable to see his black leather jacket in the throng of people. You hesitated, wondering if you should look for him or just go straight to the address, when you felt an arm around your waist.

“Stay close to me,” Logan murmured into your war, his voice gravelly. “Don’t wanna lose you again.”

You glanced at him as he continued walking, not moving his arm from your waist. “How’d you find me?”

He gave you a smirk. “Followed the smell of blood.”

Again you felt your cheeks heat but you glared at him defiantly, refusing to be embarrassed. He smirked at you, flashing his teeth, as you arrived in front of the address, a plain building home to some sort of florist. 

Logan finally took his hand from your waist, walking to the door with you trailing behind him. A bell gave a little jingle as you entered, and you were immediately assaulted with the smell of flowers. Different sorts of plants took up every corner of the room and Logan’s face soured as he looked around, obviously not pleased with the environment.

An old woman sat behind a desk, watering a plant with a mini watering can. You walked up to her, Logan hot on your heels. When you stopped in front of the desk Logan was so close behind you you could actually feel his chest against your back.

“Mrs May?” you asked.

The old woman looked at you with a smile, her eyes crinkling. “That’s me. What can I help you two lovebirds with? Bouquet of roses? Lilies?”

You opened your mouth, surprised, and tried to find something to say. Being mistaken for a couple shouldn’t have affected you so much, especially while on a mission, but you were flustered and could still feel Logan’s chest right against your back, his warmth almost dizzying.

“We’re not here for flowers unfortunately,” Logan spoke, saving you. Except why didn’t he specify you weren’t a couple? Did that not matter to him, what some old lady thought, or did he enjoy the idea of being thought of as your boyfriend?

Oh god. What were you thinking? Stupid period hormones. 

The old lady looked at you two curiously. “Then how can I help you?”

There was a pointed silence and you realised Logan was waiting for you to speak. You cleared your throat and spoke the random sequence of words Xavier had you memorise, that would inform Mrs May just what type of buyers you were.

The woman’s eyes lit up with recognition and she nodded her head slowly. “Ah, yes, let me just go to the storage room quickly, I’ll be back….”

Mrs May tottered around the desk and through a side door, half hidden behind the multitude of plants covering the area, leaving you alone with Logan.

You took a step away from him and turned around to look at him, finding him staring at you with a frown on his face.

You frowned back at him. “What’s up with you today?”

He raised his eyebrows at you. “What is up with me? I don’t know if you’ve noticed Darl but you haven’t exactly been up to par yourself.”

You rolled your eyes at his words. “That’s not what I meant, and besides, I’m on my period.”

Logan stared at you, arms crossed. “What did ya mean then?”

“You’ve been acting strange. Less talkative and annoying like usual.”

Logan snorted. “Ever the lady.”

“I’m serious. What’s up with you?”

Logan sighed and took a step forward until he was towering over you and you had to crane your head up to look at him. “You are what’s up. I can constantly smell you bleeding, and I can’t get it out of my mind that it means you’re hurt. You’re driving me crazy sweetheart.”

Well…. That certainly wasn’t what you were expecting. Logan smirked down at you as if he knew that, and enjoyed surprising you. You cleared your throat as your eyes darted to the floor. “Well, that’s hardly my fault.”

Logan chuckled. “Not your fault no, but it is your doing whether you mean to or not.”

You swallowed, looking back up at him. “Well…. Don’t you constantly smell when people are on their periods?”

“It’s different with you. Smelling your blood just drives me crazy, plain and simple. Can’t get the instinct out of my head that blood means injury.”

The way Logan was admitting all of this, with such calm, made you think he’d been wanting to say this for a while. The unspoken confession was there, and it was up to you to decide what to do with it.

“I’m glad you care,” was what you landed on, unsure of what else to say.

Logan chuckled again, one hand snaking to your waist. “I do a lot more than care, Y/n.”

You smiled softly, looking up at him. With his other hand he brushed your cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. The sound of a door closing brought you out of your little bubble and you took a step back, Logan reluctantly letting go of your waist.

Mrs May, either not having seen you two or graciously deciding to ignore it, passed you a package, informing you the herb and all information involving it was inside, and to handle it with care. You nodded and thanked the old woman before exiting the building, Logan again right on your heels.

As soon as the shop’s door closed behind you Logan’s hand was back around your waist. “Not losing you this time.”

You tried not to smile, though internally you were grinning like a maniac, and let Logan lead the two of you back to the car. You didn’t even get to argue your case of driving this time, Logan already in the driver’s seat. You sighed and got into the passenger seat, resigning yourself to another hour of silence as Logan started driving, when you felt his hand on your thigh.

You looked at him but he didn’t say anything, just gave it a light squeeze as he kept his eyes on the road. You looked away, grinning. So maybe the world didn’t have it out for you after all.

[vampirememory]

quality ✧ do you need to lower or raise your standards? [Love PAC]

Hello! I believe this is my first pick a card of 2024, I hope you appreciate the topic I chose. This is something that I recently had to recognize and deal with myself, so hopefully you find this reading helpful.

Pick a photo or a number one through three and continue reading to find your reading.

One

No, absolutely not. If anything, your standards are too low. You are like me, at least myself a few weeks/months ago when I did not value myself. You need to understand that you are 100% valuable and loved, and that there is nothing that can depreciate your value. You may have been overconsuming readings, questioning as to why you continue getting into toxic relationships or completely lack a relationship and it's because you have a negative sense of self. Listening to self-worth or self concept subliminals may help you. You are worthy of a healthy, happy relationship but you need to be healthy yourself first. Now keep in mind, healthy does not mean without illnesses. I know from my experience with depression, I will never be healthy, but you CAN have a healthy outlook on life and a healthy sense of self, which is what you are looking for. Especially for my mentally ill friends, no one (not here, at least) is expecting you to be 100% healthy but to be as healthy as you can be, if that makes sense.

Two

Girlie, I hate to tell you but your standards are high as fuck. But is that a bad thing? You tell me. To be clear, when I say girlie I am 100% being gender neutral, this reading is for everyone ^-^! You're giving boss bitch energy, but are you actually a boss bitch? One thing about having high standards is that you also need to meet those standards yourself and you need to ask yourself "would someone like that want to date me"? For example, if you're really aiming for a basketball player or the top CEO, are you actually in a mental and physical space where that will happen? Are you out on the courts, networking and integrating yourself into sports environments? Are you working your way up to the top, making connections with higher ups and building a good reputation? I think you may have good standards, but you aren't reaching them yourself or not putting yourself in environments where you'll meet said person. Also make sure you are actually maintaining those standards too. If you think education is important, and you're actively in education and want someone else who is too, why settle for someone who hates education or isn't looking to educate themselves? Things like that make all the difference. If you want to talk the talk, you need to walk the walk too.

Three

This pile gives me much softer vibes than the other two piles. Your standards and romantic requests may be more traditional, you may want the house and the kids and the white picket fence and that's totally fine! I think you're doing well in terms of your standards, you uphold them and you aren't putting yourself in situations where you are with people who are against that dream or against those standards. I do need to warn you, however, that there are a lot of exploitive people out there, especially when it comes to wanting a more traditional homelife. Waiting is a completely fine thing to do. Don't jump at the first person that looks nice and ticks all the boxes because they may be lying. I don't see terrible things happening for you but I feel like I needed to include a warning. Just be careful and you'll get your wishes <3.

Thats all for today my friends! Check out my masterlist for my previous readings and remember to stay safe in this crazy world! Feel free to send asks with any topics you would like to see in the future.

[starkwlkr]

can you please do a part 4 where ruby’s finds about pregnancy and become jealous, but charles and yn only notices when one night charles is kiss and talking with yn’s belly and without them notice she’s going to her room and do a suitcase, when she returns with them she having tears in her eyes and tell them she going to live with her grand mere since them don’t need and want her anymore now they have another baby, and them become all fluffy with charle’s and yn talking to her and ruby’s being the biggest daddy’s girl

sorry abou my english, i hope you understand

jealousy, jealousy | charles leclerc

ruby is so real for this because i almost did this when i was younger (tbh i still get jealous when my mom praises my other cousins because her and i have a complicated relationship ENOUGH TRAUMA DUMPING SORRY)

When Ruby was told she was going to be a big sister, it didn’t go as planned. She was pretty straight forward about it too.

“Why do you need another baby?” She asked her parents one night during dinner. Charles and Y/n were confused. Ruby always talked about all the kids in her class having siblings. “You have me.”

“Ruby, we love you very much, the new baby isn’t going to change that.” Charles spoke to his daughter.

“Okay,” she wasn’t quite convinced yet. She looked at her mom and noticed her stomach was bigger. “Why is your belly big? Did you eat a lot?”

“Ruby Jules, that’s not a nice thing to say.” Charles sighed. He always wondered how his mom managed to raise three boys, he was having trouble with just Ruby. He made a mental note to thank his mom for everything she had done. “Mama’s belly is big because that’s where your baby brother or sister is. You were in mama’s belly too.”

“No, I wasn’t. Uncle Arthur told me I came from the hospital. I saw pictures of mama and me.” Ruby said, grabbing her juice box from the table and drinking from it.

“Yes, we were in the hospital but before that you were in my belly.” Y/n added.

“When does the baby get here?” Ruby wondered. “Do I have to share my room? I don’t like sharing my toys with a baby.”

“The baby isn’t going to stay in your room. They’re going to stay with mama and daddy. They’re going to be too small so we have to take care of them.” That’s when Charles made a mistake.

It took almost three whole years for Ruby to actually stay in her own room. When Charles would put her to sleep, Ruby’s little legs would take her right back to her parent’s room. Ruby wasn’t afraid of the dark or the ‘monsters’ in her closet, she just wanted to hug her daddy while she slept.

“Why does the baby get to sleep in your room? Why can’t I?” Ruby asked.

“Ruby-”

“I’m leaving.” Ruby mumbled and got down from the chair. She angrily stomped away then a few seconds later, she reappeared just to grab her unfinished juice from the table, then she finally left.

“I knew we should’ve waited until tomorrow. We could’ve gotten her a cake or taken her to the park. She hates us, Charles.” Y/n frowned. She picked up Ruby’s plate and walked over to the sink. She started washing the dishes when Charles came up from behind her, wrapping his arms around her small, but visible bump.

“She doesn’t hate us, mon amour. She just doesn’t understand. A couple years from now, her and the baby are going to be best friends.” Charles kissed Y/n’s cheek.

“I hope you’re right.” Y/n put down the washed plate and turned around to face Charles.

“I am right and I’m also right about this one being a boy. He’s going to be a strong, smart boy like his dad.” Charles bent down to place a kiss on Y/n’s belly.

“Really? Because I remember you calling yourself stupid.” Y/n teased. Her hands started playing with Charles’ hair. “And what makes you so sure that baby leclerc is going to be a boy?”

“I just know. We already have a daughter, having a boy would complete our family.” Charles smiled at his wife. “I love you already, baby leclerc.” He looked back at the bump.

Ruby watched from a distance as her dad kissed her mom’s belly multiple times. It broke her heart hearing them call the new baby ‘baby leclerc’. Why couldn’t they name it differently? That’s was her nickname. The baby wasn’t even here and they were already stealing from her. That’s the moment when Ruby decided she wasn’t wanted anymore, not when there was a new baby coming soon.

The four year old walked to her room and started going through her closet, looking for her small princess backpack. When she finally found it, she unzipped it and began to pack her some clothes along with a stuffed animal, her doll, two euros and a book with bedtime stories.

If her parents weren’t going to love her then she was going to the one person she knew would love her no matter what. Pascale lived right across the street from them so Ruby knew exactly where to go. She put on her backpack, grabbed her stuffed animal and walked back to the living room where she found her parents cleaning up before going to bed.

“And where are you going, little one?” Charles quickly noticed the girl with the backpack.

“I’m going to grand-merè house because you don’t love me anymore. She loves me, she gives me ice cream.” Ruby said in a low voice. She didn’t think she was going to cry when she told her mom and dad she was leaving, but here she was, tears coming out her eyes as she stood before them explaining why she was leaving.

“Baby, we will always love you. The new baby isn’t going to replace you. Come here,” Y/n grabbed her daughter’s hand and led her to the sofa so they could have a proper talk. “We love you and the new baby isn’t going to change that. What made you think we didn’t love you anymore?”

Ruby wiped away her tears. “I heard papa call the baby my name. And they’re going to sleep in your room.”

Y/n brought the crying girl into her arms for a hug. “I’m sorry if you felt like we didn’t love you. We love you so much, my pretty girl.”

“I’m sorry for calling your brother or sister baby leclerc. If you want, you can name them. What do want to call the baby?” Charles poked Ruby’s cheek, making the girl laugh.

“I want the baby to be called Steve!” Ruby said confidently.

“Steve? Like the guy from Blues Clues?” Y/n asked.

Ruby nodded. “He’s funny and we sing old macdonald had a farm together!”

“Okay, baby steve it is.” Charles chuckled as he took the girl from his wife’s arms. “I love you, Ruby Jules. You’re my special girl, but don’t tell mama or else she’s going to get jealous.” He whispered to her.

“Okay, daddy.” Ruby nodded, giggling as she did so. “I love you too.” She hugged Charles, her giggles getting louder as Charles tickled her sides.

“Say goodnight to mama … and baby steve. It’s bedtime, baby leclerc.” Charles said.

“Goodnight mama, I love you. Goodnight baby Steve, you’re okay.” Ruby kissed her mom then copied Charles’ actions from earlier and kissed her mom’s belly.

“Goodnight, my pretty girl. I love you too.” Y/n kissed Ruby’s cheek and watched as Charles took a laughing Ruby to her room.

Y/n sighed and looked down at her belly. “Baby Steve.” She chuckled at the name. “Come on Steve, it’s bedtime.”

[alittlebitofloveliness]

Do you think Pony is suicidal? In your post about Pony dying in the fire you mentioned how the gang watches after him and you said “suicide watch” so now you’ve got me wanting to know more of your thoughts

Ok, I want to be very clear in that I don't think Pony is actively suicidal for most of the novel. But the kid is very obviously mentally ill. It's heavily implied that he was noticeably pretty depressed for a while directly following his parents deaths, and I think he's still depressed during the events of the book. He then suffers smoke inhalation and MULTIPLE head traumas in a very short amount of time. For anyone who doesn't know what a concussion does to your brain, it literally stretches your neurons (brain cells), or twists them irrevocably. It literally pulls your brain cells apart, and neurons (for the most part) do not regenerate. Multiple concussions in a row? That will probably leave lifelong damage, nevermind that it exacerbates symptoms that were already there. Ponyboy legitimately has a psychotic episode because of his concussion and his grief of losing Johnny. He genuinely and completely believes, even briefly, that Johnny didn't die and that he was the one who had stabbed Bob. Then we get to the part where he's describing a lot of symptoms of concussions- absent mindedness, forgetting things etc, before he gets to the part where he talks about the english assignment. Now, this part jumps out to me because its so much less in depth than the rest of the book. Part of that might have been the forgetfulness, but I think it was something deeper. Because Ponyboy doesn't shy away from a lot in the story, but he does gloss over things that are particularly personal or unsavoury that don't contribute directly to the story. We also know that Ponyboy is BIG into escapism, with his love of books and movies and his dependence on substances such as nicotine and asprin (i've written a post about his huge potential for addiction but I can't find it at the moment). I think yeah, the concussion played a role in some of his 'lost time' but I also think Ponyboy's mental heath was at an all time low and he wanted to keep that out of his account of the story as much as possible. It's clear in the following paragraphs that his teacher and his brothers and the gang were all pretty concerned, even if he tries to brush over it. After all, who'd want to confess to not remembering huge swaths of time or struggling so much with your grief you're struggling to cope with life? Not Ponyboy Curtis, thats for sure.

Thanks for the ask, I hope this isn't too rambly xx

[snotbuggle]

Omega when she gets to jail and realizes that she now has to big sister four other children. One of which is nowhere near her age.

Going to try and condense some more serious thoughts about these episodes down below so I can avoid spoiling someone as much as possible and not post a dozen times. I don’t want to miss tag any one of those.

Jex/Jek?? I can’t completely remember his name, but the mirialan kid is for sure not going to trust her at all. Can’t say much for the pantoran kid since they haven’t shown much of them so far, but Eva is going to love her.

I think the mirialan kid is definitely going to be skeptical of Omega’s prior knowledge of the facility, Emerie, and why they’re there. Although he might overlook these things hanging on her promise that her brothers will get her, and in turn them, out of there. I can’t help but wonder what Omega and the others will think after about a week and there still not being a rescue. (These two are assuming that she will be placed with the other force sensitive children. Although she may be moved since her blood actually works for project Necromancer)

Crosshair is definitely going to hear it from Hunter. ESPECIALLY after he threw Hunter’s past failure to keep her out of Tantiss in his face. What I think will weigh on his conscience more though is the fact he thinks she’ll be alone this time. In a way she definitely will, but I have no doubt that he realizes he was probably the highlight of her day. He was probably the one thing that kept her hopeful even if he tried to talk down on her and get her to leave. Yes, she had hope that Hunter and Wrecker would find her, but she also needed someone there with her. A familiar face and not someone who just revealed they were your sister out of the blue. Her situation has changed, but Crosshair doesn’t know that. The Crosshair guilt is going to be so real in these last episodes.

Switching gears, CX agents are always a cool and interesting topic for me. While the identity of CX-2 isn’t usually as engaging, I have to say that I’ve drifted from the standpoint of “there’s no way that’s Tech” to “it’s a possibility” over the course of the last two episodes. I’ve seen some fun ideas for who it is otherwise. Personally, I think that they’re probably just another copy paste man with no autonomy anymore.

ANYHOW! I haven’t seen anyone talk about it much, but the scene with Hemlock reviewing the CX agent data and the capsule has me thinking a little harder on their creation/conditioning. The way Hemlock talks about the other operatives as well. “The others aren’t ready to join you” (paraphrasing) seems to show that after the mental conditioning through obviously brutal means, it takes a load of time to physically condition the agents. Seeing as CX-1 was most likely initiated around the same time as Crosshair (I choose to believe that they were near each other’s tables which is why they’re familiar), that took around five months to half a year. In that time span there had to be a lot of soldiers who Hemlock saw fit to be “reprogrammed” but we see very few operatives throughout. This means that if they make it out of mental conditioning, physical conditioning is most likely very dangerous and often times fatal. I’d like to draw attention to the capsules as a part of that physical conditioning. There were several capsules that Hemlock was observing, along with the foggy one that is most likely that new Huyang-lookin-ass operative. If these capsules are the final stage of physical conditioning, it adds meaning to CX-2’s first line, “Why have I been activated?” (Once again paraphrasing). Although the capsules could be for something else entirely.

Also a bit of a gripe, why in the world do you need a new secret-secret operative, Hemlock? You have the commandos, and then the first X troopers, now the CX’s, and what? You wanted a new one? I can’t tell if this man is an overachiever or just way too absorbed into the advanced trooper rabbit hole. Also for you Tech theorists, it’s kinda suspicious that he makes a new version of agents isn’t it? Almost like there’s something…deviant about him?

Completely side tracking here, I really like Phee’s awareness in the station. Yeah she didn’t hear the blaring alarm, but she was in a room where it’d be hard to hear anyways. However, when she got back she felt something was off about the ramp. We’ve seen how slick CX-2 is, so her noticing something is up was a nice touch imo. Also was very appreciative of her caution and readiness with her knife. I love when female characters get to be aware of their surroundings and ready to throw hands if things go south.

In conclusion, thank you for listening to my dump-rambling. I’ve been trying to keep my lips shut so I don’t miss tag anything and spoil it for someone (because I know that I’ll forget to tag everything right). I hope Wrecker is okay. And even if I’m not a Tech CX theorist, I have to admit that I’ve been seeing some fairly strong parallels.

[redphlox]

How long do you think Dabi survived for in the tube? I’m regards to Natsuo’s character, do you think he got the chance to reconcile with Touya despite the Ending incident? How do you think that went down?

One thing I will credit to the ending of MHA, the fact they still have Touya’s shrine (wonder if they still have kid Touya’s picture or if it’s a different one) considering Shoto prays to it. They never forgot about him, and they never seemed to blame him either saying they would always be there (Fuyumi and Rei said anyway.) Although I hope he didn’t die in the tube and was able to hug them one last time. The idea that Dabi is probably the only villain to be remembered by his family/have a grave while Toga and everyone else were abandoned is low key heartbreaking. But the whole ending for the LOV is LOL

I think maybe Toya survived a couple of weeks or months. Not too long, of course. Let the man escape this cruel world.

I like to think that Natsuo reconciled with his brother. The story emphasized that they had a strong bond and implied that Toya was a main source of emotional support and comfort to Natsuo during a time when he felt abandoned and rejected by both parents, as Endeavor was focus on his career and abusing his family, and Rei's energy was focused on protecting Shouto from Endeavor and her own mental health was deteriorating. I'm sure Natsuo had a lot of anger and confusion about Touya's actions as a villain, but I believe they got closure.

It would be nice if the author had confirmed this in some way, seeing as he put so much emphasis on the relationship, but... ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ it's just another writing failure that didn't need to crash and burn but did anyway.

I also hope Touya didn't die in that tube by himself. Hopefully he was able to be held as he died or something. Especially since this second death was supposed to fix the first way he died (alone, unseen), but again, who knows! A major plotline of the story being so open-ended that readers get no closure and no satisfaction from the story... that's what we were left with.

I agree. It's truly all laughable. Shigaraki and Toga will only be remembered by Spinner and their respective hero kids, and neither party has a complete picture of the villains' stories. We're not shown that Spinner learned about his best friend's childhood abuse, and we're not shown if Ochako knew about the quirk counseling and all the childhood trauma that Toga went through. And it's not like Spinner will be let out of prison to make a grave or altar for them. Lol. Despite Deku saying he'll never forget Shigaraki, we're never shown that he's thinking about him or is moved by him in any way besides that "do your best" flashback which wasn't even in context to what Shigiraki would have wanted. Lol. And yeah, Ochako's quirk counseling program was inspired by Toga to prevent more kids from suffering her same fate, but it would be much more impactful if she actually shared this with the public and TALKED about Toga to the public. But no, let's keep Toga's dying heroic action on the down low so that people's perception of her is not challenged and she remains a heinous humanless villain in the annals of history. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

It's just all one giant superficial, forced ending that feels hollow and disingenuous.

Chapter 431 at least redeemed Shouto's ending for me and gave me some closure on Touya... reassurance that he's remembered and considered even in death, loved and seen unconditionally, which is exactly what Touya wanted after he died on Sekoto Peak.

[afsosville]

Spreading some Shen Jiu positivity coz I need it lol.

You know what's so great about Shen Jiu? It’s that we don’t have a clue what Shen Jiu would’ve been like if he had a chance to heal from his trauma or was equipped to deal with it. (That includes learning coping mechanisms that don’t involve lashing out on other people and getting the TLC he deserves.) We have already seen him at his worst, I wanna know what he’s like at his best!! The world nerfed him with trauma and angst coz it knew a Shen Jiu with mental stability would be a force to be reckoned with. He embodies the quote “Jupiter was meant to be a star but failed.” This is why I love Shen Jiu fics so much (at least the ones where he heals and all that). No coz I'm not getting over the fact that he used a powerful sword flying technique during the burning of the Qiu manor without practicing it first and only saw it once before just straight up pulling it out of his ass like- Or that he become a peak lord despite every fucking disadvantage thrown at him. Also! I'm pretty sure his spirit roots and cultivation talent was equal to, or even greater than Yue Qingyuan as a kid before it got ripped away from him LIKE WHAT- 

Everyone has their own interpretations of Shen Jiu’s character and it's nice to explore. Ofc I don’t like the way he is in canon. If he was a real person, yall would hate him too. I like Shen Jiu for the potential he had as a person and who he could’ve been. And I like coming up with AUs and ideas for how things could've gone differently for him because, for me, there's something so therapeutic about seeing/writing characters break cycles. Shen Jiu not having done so in SV had a narrative impact by emphasising how people display problematic and violent behaviours in response to trauma. That is why the protagonists and male leads of MXTX novels are written the way that they are, to contrast the villains. Characters like Xie Lian, Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian are examples of people coping with their trauma positively (semi positively if I'm being honest but the point remains). So excuse me for making Shen Jiu the protagonist in practically all the fics I'm working on lol.

Technically you can’t even say Shen Jiu is OOC for these kinds of SJ fics, coz, again, we don’t know what he’s like if he actually got the help he needed. There's this fic called Residing Over Autumn Leaves, where Shen Jiu’s personality is so malleable that he completely reflects the environment he was around in his earlier years. He suffers through a Qi deviation that actually erases his memories and he becomes a white lotus Jiumei. It’s because he was in Qing Jing peak most of the time and all his disciples and martial siblings protected him. And then there’s fics like The Hidden Flower, and the Memories Remembered series. Those speak for themselves. I'm assuming yall read them coz they're pretty much the most popular Shen Jiu fics on AO3 lol. 

Btw, I am NOT looking to argue with anyone over smt like this. Like YES I know what he did, and made sure I had that info (coz the spreading of misinformation is wild).

But I hope it's at least undeniable that he deserved to heal for what the Qiu's and Wu Yanzi put him thru??

[forthevillains]

Okokok this is gonna sound weird, BUT, pretty please hear me out 😘

So imagine being Albert Wesker's "childhood friend" Like when he was a teen he'd sneak out to spend time with you every so often if he had a bit of free time in his busy af schedule. Idk what to do about this idea from there. I just think it's kinda fun. Maybe he's secretly a yandere lol. No idea.

That’s such a good idea!

The fact that Wesker would have someone to talk to without Spencer knowing at all. Like he’d be so excited to actually have a friend he’d risk his everything only to get to see you. As smart as he is, it wouldn’t be that difficult for him to create a plan, but making it work with all the people around him would be much worse.

Alex surely caught him at least once, questioning his intentions, curious on why in the hell would her brother go out during such a time while they have so much to do. Wesker was tense the whole time they were talking, he felt stupid, it all looked and sounded much better in his head, but when he said "I found a friend.” - he cringed at himself. No matter this reaction though, as much as Alex used to tease the hell out of him and even make fun of him, she was still his sister and he was closest to the family she’s lost years ago. Something about Albert being able to make connections with people after all that’s been done to him is still on her mind and so she lets him go, having his back whenever Spencer asked of his whereabouts.

Wesker would sneak out more and more often, the more he got to know you, the more he wanted to be with you. It became something he couldn’t live without, seeing you smile at him every now and then, interested in him. If you asked about his parents he would go quiet, so you made a mental note of not asking about his personal life again. You became the talker and did he love listening to you. He got to know the smallest of things, everything about your own family… He made sure to remember every detail about you, especially the type of places you liked so that he could take you there when you guys would get older. It was the first time for him having a friend like this so he cared for you like for no other.

I can imagine Wesker getting really fixated though, after some time, he wouldn’t know whether its love or obsession he’s feeling, but deep in his guts he’s aware that it’s no good, not for him, not for you. He’s destined for big things, he has so many lives on his hands. He’s nothing like any other teenager, he has an important duty (and trust that sometimes he hates it very much). Though you always make him feel like a normal teenager, like a normal human being… And that’s special to him, by treating him like a decent human - you’re making him feel special.

And even when he loved to spend his time with you, everything good in his life apparently had to come to an end. You left, because your parents insisted on moving away and that was when you and Albert got separated. It hurt, both you and him, but in his case it was hard to move on. So hard he just couldn’t do it. He’d feel sad, always thinking of the times spent with you, away from all his problems and now it was all gone. While you were quick to find new friends, he became so lonely that not even William or Alex made him feel better.

You haven’t come back in years, in almost two decades. And Wesker was still thinking of you sometimes, even though he was somewhere completely else. He changed physically and mentally that’s for sure, now that he was captain of S.T.A.R.S. with even more responsibilities than before. He became cold, stern and hardworking man with clear goals in his mind. He didn’t include you in his plans anymore, even though he wondered where you were a lot, he wondered if you got married and had kids, he wondered if you thought about him the same way he thought about you. Obsession it was indeed.

One day however, you ran into him, on an accident. You didn’t see it coming as you were texting your co-worker of an important matter when you found yourself basically walking into his muscular form, immediately dropping your phone and if it wasn’t from him - you’d be lying on the ground right next to it.

"I’m sorry-“ you were ready to leave, but he stopped you before you could go any further. You were familiar, everything about you felt that way and when you looked up at him, all confused, he recognized those eyes. It was as if the time stopped for him, finally seeing the woman he liked when they were young, someone who overlooked all his flaws and made him smile almost each time they met.

"What is it?” You turned your head to the side, narrowing your eyes in curiosity and only then has he realized that he’s been staring at you through his shades and not saying anything.

"Y/N…” he only muttered your name, completely taken aback by the sound of your voice. He couldn’t believe that he was seeing you now. "It’s been so long.”

You don’t get what he means at first, but when he takes the sunglasses off to get a proper look at you. "Al-“ before you finished saying his name he pulled you in for a hug, wanting nothing more than to feel that you’re real. He only used to hug you when you initiated it, but now it was his turn, he felt as if it wasn’t real at all, that it was too good to be.

No matter the shock, you hugged him back after a while, wrapping your hands around him, taking a note of how much bigger he got over the years. He’s grown to be a handsome man to say the least.

"What are you doing here?” You asked when you pulled away, giving him a small smile.

"Going to work.” He made it up. He wasn’t going anywhere now that he’s learned that you’re around. He’s not gonna make the same mistake of letting you go now that he has more control over his own life. It might feel crazy to some, but he wanted to keep an eye on you, getting to know your habits, where you worked, where you lived and he wouldn’t wait for you to tell him yourself, it’s already been too much time without you. He wanted to make up for it now.

"Oh alright! Sorry, I must be wasting your time,” you apologized.

Wesker shook his head though. "Of course you’re not.” He was so gentle talking to you that if someone has heard him they probably wouldn’t even recognize him.

"Well in that case, we should catch up with each other. Are you free this evening? I’ve got so much to tell you!” There you were, the girl he used to know, immediately showing him your interest even though you haven’t seen him in decades. He couldn’t even say no to you, immediately cancelling whatever plans he’s had to make sure he’s indeed free in the evening. This time you’re not getting away from him, he’s going to make you his at some point. He’s been stupid enough to let you go once, he’s not gonna do it again;)

[lost-in-tokyo]

Need help? Call Toji!

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x fem!reader

Summary: When a mission drains you mentally and physically, you see yourself seeking for security and help from none other than Toji Fushiguro, your friend’s dad. 

Word count: 2,4k

Warnings: Toji actually raised Megumi in this one. Reader is in her early 20s and is a sorcerer. Cheating (reader has a boyfriend), oral (female receiving), bathroom sex, doggy style, manting press, multiple orgarsms, unprotected sex, creampie, hair pulling, scratching, ass slapping, daddy kink, age gap, fingering, mentions of blood (reader gets hurt in a mission). Did I forget something?

Being friends with Megumi certainly had many advantages, he was a great listener and always gave honest advice and opinions, he had excellent taste in music and generally didn't complain about listening to you talk nonstop. But surely the best of all was getting to see his dad wearing those tight t-shirts that left nothing to the imagination when you visited their house.

You could still remember the first time you came to the boy's house. It was on a Saturday afternoon, Yuji and Nobara were determined to have a video game championship, and to change the atmosphere a little, Megumi suggested that they did it at his house .

It was a hot summer afternoon and he was outside mowing the lawn, covered in a fine sheen of sweat and wearing only a pair of worn jeans. He wiped the sweat off his forehead with his forearm before slowly looking you up and down.

“Excuse me, does Megumi live here?” You tried to be as polite as possible while holding the hem of your skirt, which between us, wasn't the longest you had.

A light chuckle ripped from his throat before he answered. “Yeah, they’re inside.”

That was a few years ago, and every time you came over to Megumi's, you couldn't deny that you made as much effort as possible not to get nervous and end up stumbling over your own words when the older Fushiguro spoke to you.

It's not that you were in love, far from it, but his incredible height and his heavy layer of muscle intimidated you in an exciting way. Every time that smirk crossed his face as he looked at you, and every time those callused hands touched you in the most unpretentious way possible, you couldn't stop the thoughts that flooded your mind, thinking about what it would be like to hear him moan your name, or how many times he could make you come.

This was wrong.

So wrong!

Especially because you had a boyfriend.

It had been a few months, you had known him through work and he was always a great boyfriend. He did all your wishes, treated you like a princess and was there for everything you needed, but still, you called him when you needed help.

It was late on a Friday night, you had a bleeding leg and your whole body ached after a traumatic mission that went completely off-plan. You had managed to exorcize the curse, but you had paid a high price for it.

Moisture hung in the air, creating a thin layer of haze that lit up as the Toyota pickup that now had several shades of orange, thanks to rust, pulled up. One of its headlights had given out and the car could definitely use a good wash, but you didn't care, as seeing that truck was all you needed to instantly calm down.

“Need a ride, kid?” There was a certain mocking tone to his voice, and even in the dark, you were sure he had a smirk plastered on his face.

You opened the door of the pickup, climbing into the passenger seat, whose leather had dried out and split in places several years ago.

"Hurting?" He referred to your bloodied leg, bound by a belt, which had once been around your waist, to stop the bleeding.

"It still burns, I think I'll need stitches."

"Let's go to my place, I'll help ya with that when we get there."

You nodded slightly, leaning your head back against the seat as you listened to the sound of Black Sabbath coming out of the car's sound system.

The house was all dark, and as you went through the rooms you began to look for the presence of a certain someone.

"He's at Yuji's, helping with something." Toji replied, almost reading your mind.

You followed him upstairs, past his room and into his bathroom.

It was the first time you had entered this part of the house. His room had light walls and dark wood furniture, there was an orangey rug on the floor, but everything looked somehow organized.

His bathroom had gray tiles and a large mirror over the white vanity. The scent of his perfume was much stronger here than the rest of the house, and you could stare at his toiletries for a second before he spoke again.

“Ya can sit on the sink, I’ll take a look at yer wound.”

You did as he said as he crouched down, pulling out a vial of rubbing alcohol and gauze for a bandage. After rummaging through a drawer he found a box with some needles and a small spool of black thread.

He positioned himself in front of you, and then his icy fingers touched your thighs half covered by the fabric of your uniform skirt, making a shiver hit you.

“Don't worry, I won't look.” He assured as he spread your legs slightly apart, before lifting the foot of your injured leg and resting it on the surface of the vanity, making your back rest against the mirror.

For the first time you felt embarrassed. You were fully aware that Toji was seeing your pink panties, despite him acting like he wasn't.

He removed the belt as gently as he could, before taking a good look at your cut.

“That curse got ya good, huh? It didn't cut any arteries though”. Toji looked up, fixing his dark gaze in your eyes, that looked like those of a deer who had just seen the headlights of a car coming towards it. Your pupils were dilated and your eyes looked a shade darker than normal.

He backed away a little, pulling a black lighter from his front pants pocket and running the needle through its flame a few times. After managing to fit the thread and tie the knot he looked at you, almost with resentment for the pain you were about to feel.

“This is goin’ to hurt a little.”

His hands, now a little warmer, touched the inner part of your thigh, making a shiver run through your body. He squeezed your flesh making you gasp slightly before he inserted the needle for the first time.

A groan of pain left your throat and your hands balled into fists, pushing its nails as deep as possible in an attempt to distract your mind from the pain you felt below.

Toji continued the procedure, making eye contact with you at each stitch that was completed, he knew it wasn't time, but he couldn't stop his member from hardening and throbbing with each moan that came out of your lips, that seemed to be oh so soft.

Despite the pain, Toji's hot breath hitting your core, and the touch of his fingers so close to your most intimate area, was making the situation more and more difficult, not because of the pain, but because the pain just made the heat between your legs get worse.

"All done!" Toji was many things, but naive wasn’t one of them. He saw the small pool that formed in your little pink panties, and he saw the way you futilely tried to find a position that would help ease the heat you were feeling.

“Ya want me to take care of this too?” One of his thick fingers ran up and down your cunt, making you catch your breath to repress a moan.

"What do ya say? Want daddy to take care of this pretty lil’ pussy?”

You felt yourself clenching against nothing as you nodded, feeling your cheeks heat up as you maintained eye contact.

"Use your words, sweetheart.”

"Yes please." You said after a moment.

"Please, what?"

“Please, Daddy.”

A smirk spread across Toji's features as he crouched down, resting your freshly treated leg over his shoulder and bringing his face close to your warmth.

He roamed your territory, rubbing his nose against the fabric of your panties, taking a long sniff to absorb the scent of it before giving it a full lick.

Toji pulled your panties to the side, touching your clit masterfully with the tip of his tongue while one of his long fingers penetrated you with ease, thanks to your juices. It didn't take long for him to find your sweet spot, stimulating it while continuing the ministrations with his tongue.

He smiled as your fingers found his hair, tugging lightly at the strands in an attempt to bring him closer. Your soft moans were like the sweetest music to his ears and your taste was like a first meal for a man who had never eaten. He was hungry.

Hungry for you.

Toji had lost track of how many times he had found himself jerking off late at night thinking about you and your little skirts, the way you smiled and the way you said "Mr Fushiguro". It was too much for him. For years he had imagined this moment and now that it had finally happened, he was in no hurry.

Soon Toji's movements had you in a state of frenzy, you felt a knot forming in your belly and it tensed more and more until it burst out with a loud and clear moan, which made his member get even harder, if that was possible.

“I need to fuck ya now.” He grunted, picking you up in his arms before tossing you almost carelessly onto the bed.

You admired while Toji undressed, removing all his clothes, leaving lastly a pair of black boxers that deliciously marked the shape of his member, whose head spilled out of the garment.

He walked over to the bed, pulling you close by your ankle and helping you out of your clothes as quickly as possible, throwing them in all directions across the room before pushing you again.

“It will hurt a little, princess.” He said smirking, before spreading your legs and entering you all at once, not giving you time to adjust.

Toji was right, you weren't used to his size and at first you felt a delicious burning that soon disappeared and was replaced by pure pleasure. You could feel every inch of him, every pulsing vein passing through your tight walls making him groan.

Fushiguro thrust into you with power and mastery, hitting all the right spots. He would grab whatever piece of flesh of yours that was available, your breasts, your ass and pull you close by your shoulders while keeping a pace too fast for you to be quiet.

“Pussy so tight… so good” He leaned down, his mouth taking a hold of one of your nipples as his right hand played with the other.

Your moans echoed through the room as your nails scratched the skin on his back. “Mo-more.” You managed to say, getting hit with a particularly hard thrust before Toji sped his movements even more.

“Look at you, begging for more from someone who isn't your boyfriend. What a bad girl you are!” He tormented you, speaking with his voice, now husky with desire, close to your ear as his hands pushed your thighs until your knees almost touched your shoulders, causing his cock to reach even deeper inside you.

Your mind collapsed and your eyes rolled into the back of your head as the second orgasm of the night hit you, making your legs tremble against his muscular arms.

“Tell me y/n, does he make you cum like this?”

Nothing but a few incomprehensible moans came out of your mouth, still very bewildered with the pleasure that had consumed you. Toji's movements slowed down, coming to almost a stop, causing you to regain consciousness to the point of absorbing his question.

"No!” You almost screamed. “He doesn’t." Your voice much lower now, but still desperate for him to resume his movements, your voice a little hoarse from moaning too loud.

Toji smirked before a dry chuckle ripped from his throat, as if he'd known the answer all along. He pulled out of you ignoring your whimpering and turning you around, placing you on all fours on the mattress of his bed.

Before you could register what was happening, Toji thrusted into you all at once, keeping your back arched as he pulled your hair into a ponytail. His free hand hit your ass precisely a few times, adding to the wave of pleasure that consumed you.

“Toji!” You moaned loudly, your eyes closing, unable to think of anything else but the thick cock fucking you and the man it belonged to.

“You don't know how long I've waited to hear this.” He chuckled lightly, his hand letting go of your hair and bringing you close by the neck. His lips touched your ear, allowing you to hear his every grunt and moan as clearly as possible.

It wasn't long after that familiar feeling started to creep up again, you gripped his arm with both hands, unsure if you could hold yourself in that position much longer.

"Not yet." he gasped. "Together!"

You nodded in agreement, groaning almost tiredly.

Toji sped up his movements, hitting you as deep as possible, making you see stars and moan his name like a mantra, like it was the only word you knew. Outside the room, your moans mixed with the wet sound of your pussy and Toji’s balls hitting you repeatedly could be heard more than clearly.

“Now, doll! Come for me!” Toji pulled you closer, leaning down to kiss your lips, his tongue invading your mouth and quickly gaining dominance, while your nails found the skin of his arms and the strongest orgasm of your entire life took over your body.

Toji's calloused fingers delved into the strands of your hair, pulling you impossibly closer as he filled you to the brim with his thick cum and you shivered uncontrollably against the muscles of his abdomen.

When you finally pulled away, your eyes shed a few tears, your body was exhausted and if it wasn't for Toji holding your waist you would have collapsed on the bed.

Toji admired your state for a few seconds. Hair all messed up, mascara all smudged and irregular breathing, your lips were swollen and he could see his cum running down your legs.

He pinched your cheeks with his thumb and forefinger, keeping your gaze locked with his. “Fuck… are you sure you still want to date that asshole?”

Roblogs, comments and likes are very much appreciated &lt;3

Masterlist

[serxinns]

Could you do a yandere class 1A where reader is Aizawa’s kid?

Teachers Kid

(yan! Class 1a and platonic Yan aizawa x Aizawas kid reader

Tw: Mentions of abuse, Neglect and cheating

Aizawa was very overprotective of you as a kid Ever since your mom neglecteded you, cheated on him, and left the both of you with another scumbag, he remembered the way you reached your little toddler hands towards her while the snake cling to the scum's arm while they both giggled leaving while she said her final goodbyes it wasn't any Genuine he can hear how eager she was to leave this family the door shutted and you started crying calling out to the snake to come back with ur little grabby arms his heart stung he promised to protect you and to make you don't gotta deal with it again but 1st he had to take care of that woman...

•You lived with your dad your mom wasn't present in your life your dad told you that she did something really bad and now she's getting "Punished" Aizawa homeschooled you through elementary school to middle school it was fun at 1st but you felt a little sad when other kids played with their friends brought back cool stuff like toys and candy while you were stuck in the house either training with him with or without your quirk

•at a young age you dreamed of being a hero like your father and go to UA to be just like him as much as Aizawa loved to look up to you he could never let you be a hero but always shut the topic down with a strict warning you kept pressuring him trying to convince him, bribe him anything you even did the puppy eyes he secretly loves so much but he stood his ground and said no his final answer

•Aizawa was teaching his boring lesson to the class when he heard his ringtone but it wasn't his usual ringtone "Dad pumpkin spit a hairball in your shoe" he quickly turned his phone off flushed red in embarrassment he slowly turned to see the class in shock and some of them giggling a bit "YOU HAVE A CHILD?!"

• the classrooms were in chaos they were now fixated on their teacher's kid they were all asking questions about ur description, Quirk, Personality everything they wanted to know everything about you, Aizawa quickly quieted them down "Everyone needs to quiet down! Yes that's is my kid they're the same age as you all and is are HAPPLIY homeschooled that's it now let's continue " the class tried to answer more questions but Aizawa shut it down completely which made the class groan while Aizawa looked annoyed in the outside in the inside he was panicking, his class all discovered about you and they seem eager

•Even after school they all couldn't stop thinking about you whenever someone mentioned you in their heart. started to race and started to blush they haven't even met you yet so why do they feel this way... They gather around starting to wonder what are you

•while Aizawa was driving home he was just panicking even more his class found out about you he thought he was hiding. you so well why did he have to slip up he didn't want to put you in public high school it was just too dangerous especially if villains are now spawning up more commonly and he thought of something something he didn't like but it was his only choice

•"Y/N!, Kid we need to talk" you walked downstairs to see that your father was looking really serious like this was gonna be a long talk you gulped mentally "yea Dad also did you get my voicemail?" "That's the one we're talking about," your father said his eyes narrowing at you "But another thing since villains these days are commonly targeting heroes these days and I was worried about what would happen to you when you're home alone so I decided to nezu about enrolling you to Ua High-" just when you said that you jumped in his arms hugging him so tight "YES YES THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU" Aizawa may be defeated and nervous but seeing you bleamed up like you used to as a kid made him think you'll be fine "Alright then you start tomorrow im sure my class will love you"

[flightyalrighty]

What do you think about Shadow? What is your personal perception of him? I'm curious about your answer (I hope is spoiler free)

On his character profile, wikipedia etc... for a while he is describled in a strong negative way, like he has no positive traits, an anti-MarySue. But I remember that Shadow from SA2 to 2006, including Shadow 2005 (surprisling, watching the cut scene, I found his positive traits are still there), and then Prime Shadow, tMoStH (those two versions are a bit shy) and Archie Shadow has a good balance of positive and negative traits. In particular the first Shadow (Adventure 2) was enternaining, he seemed playful and mischievous at times, like he was sill a kid even if he was heavily burdened by his past, and there was something likeable in Shadow in Heroes, like he is nice to have around as friend although sometimes he may get difficult to deal with his stubborness, melancholy and pessimism.

Often people complain about Shadow being too expressive in Archie comics. I admit I complained too before rewatching SA2/Sheroes cutscenes, reading some old Sega description of the character, how Maekawa envisioned him (far different than what we have today and that's clear from SA2), I could see Archies' choices.

Also, Archie Shadow is still cold and gruff toward those he doesn't know/he didn't connect with (I lovd the part where he was answering to Relic's questions). He shows his softer side only to his closest friends and still has that hints of distrust, typical of those that were and are still abused and rejected in every possible way.

I like how you showed this in the early page of Infested. The Shadow in first pages is caring toward Rouge, but he is quiet, very focused, and stubborn (when he wanted to complete his mission despite the double concussion and the pain). I see the tick (the bug makes me think to a tick. I see them quite often bvecause the little b...s often attack my cats) is now neutralizing his mental shield, leaving him with his insecurities exposed and vulnerable, in order to make him panic more easily. Shadow's personality is still there for now but his defense is gone.

I think that different continuities have different takes on Shadow (as you mentioned with Archie and Prime). While I thought pretty long and hard about how to answer this, ultimately I'm not sure how. I'll try?

My personal perception of Shadow is simply how he was written before the series had its big tonal shift starting with Sonic Colors. This no-nonsense guy who strives to do the right thing in the most straightforward and efficient way possible. His character arc concluded with Sonic 06, and then he was slid backwards by a company that wanted so badly to twist the franchise to suit the whims of people who never had a real interest in Sonic to begin with. Shadow is so much more than the flat character he'd been hydraulic pressed into. He's more than

This.

I don't envy Ian Flynn's job. He started his career a lot more free to write Shadow how he wanted to, and then found himself struggling against more and more and more restraints -- To the point that he's said on record that he doesn't like writing Shadow anymore. That's sad, especially when my favorite take on all of Team Dark came from his pen. Ian Flynn, famously, was Archie Sonic's writer until its death.

Archie's Team Dark is how I love to see them written.

Archie Shadow, in particular, had a lot more going on than game!Shadow. He was far less likely to cause friction within the Team Dark dynamic -- Not to say friction is a bad thing in fiction, quite the opposite, but when that friction happens all the time it's exhausting. If Shadow was actually allowed more moments to be an actual teammate or collaborate with someone outside of Team Dark without making the whole situation way more needlessly difficult all on his own, that could solve a lot of the issues folks have been complaining about. Like, he doesn't even need to be written nicer, just more willing to work with allies when necessary. He used to do this. Now he barrels into every situation solo.

Anyway, kvetching about Shadow's current writing concluded (on top of the actual answer for this ask).

[scorpiusmalfoylovesoscarwilde]

I've said it before, I'll say it again, and I'm sure it won't be the last time. I AM SICK AND BLOODY TIRED OF THESE MFS, HALF OF WHO DONT EVEN CARE ABOUT CURSED CHILD, BITCHING AND MOANING ABOUT AN ANGSTY TEEN DARING TO BE AN ANGSTY TEEN, I WILL FIGHT THE LOT OF YOU

(this is gonna be a bit long and probably incoherent so sit down and fucking listen to me 🔫 stick with me because I'm not just complaining about albus haters)

eVERYBODY wants cOoMmpllEeXx relatable HUMAN characters - and then SHIT themselves when the flaws a CHILD has isn't just 🥺 uwu im socially awkward and traumatised 🥺. that's why scorpius doesn't get this fuckass treatment, because his terrible human flaw is that he's a bit shit at conversation and gets sad about his dead mum (generalised understatement, but this post isnt about him. dont come for me i love him 🫶🏻)

god forbid albus, who feels unloved and unwanted (with valid evidence for a teenager), albus who feels completely out of place and outcast from his entire famously-close-knit family, ablus who is well known by the world by default via Harry and hates the attention and high expectations, albus who then gets targeted and bullied by his peers because he's not as perfect and brilliant as his father, albus who is then isolated from his one friend because Harry is making irrational ptsd fueled decisions, albus who tells Harry completely sincerely that he knows he's unlikeable but he'll try and change himself and be more like his siblings because he genuinely believes that's what Harry and everyone else whos had the misfortune of meeting him wants, albus who spends the entire play trying to prove himself and fix things via idiotic childish decisions BECAUSE HES A WHOLE UNSTABLE CHILD

god forbid that CHILD doesn't react like a patient, supported, well adjusted, level headed adult. god forbid he reacts outwardly. god forbid he reacts at all, my bad. clearly he should just sniffle a bit as if he doesn't feel suffocated and helpless by everything in his life, because obviously hes just a spoiled brat who doesn't know what real suffering is. god forbid he complains or feels anything negatively, or doesn't quite grasp that other people are struggling too because he is too busy trying so hard to deal with himself and his declining mental health the best he can with basically no support or understanding. god forbid he isn't completely perfect.

you all sound like some fucking boomer telling teenagers they don't know what real struggling is, they aren't mentally ill, they dont have any problems because they have a roof over their head, they should all go to war kids are too soft these days 😫😖😱 fUCKING‼️SHUT UP‼️

he does things wrong but he knows he does and he does everything he can to fix it! and he is fourteen!!! do none of you remember what being fourteen is like 😭😭 I swear half of you have got to be basically fourteen yourselves cmon man

cause I'm seeing this fucking pattern a lot recently. not just for albus, not just in this fandom, everywhere. ‼️ no one can fucking handle flawed characters anymore ‼️ the only thing any character is allowed to have wrong with them is trauma apparently, otherwise they have to be perfect, and I'm getting sick of it. characters and stories are meant to reflect real life, they're meant to help shape our world view, why are you expecting everyone to be fucking perfect??? what happened to nuance? what happened to understanding character development? you are all acting like characters and people are so black and white. either they're perfect or they're insufferable and evil. I won't lie, the most common victims i've noticed of this are women. but the flawed women are typically demonised, whereas the men are typically turned into uwu baby boys who actually aren't capable of doing anything wrong and then fanon goes nuts making them into ittle wittle victims. and I'm so fucking sick of all of it, I hate this. (obviously this is not a strict rule. Albus Potter, and also Albus Dumbledore now I mention it, are demonised beyond belief)

BRING BACK FLAWS AND BRING BACK NOT COMPLETELY WRITING OFF A CHARACTER BECAUSE THEY DARE TO BE HUMAN

I AM FED UP, ALBUS POTTER GET BEHIND ME

[toomuchracket]

late night talking (sweetheart!george x reader smut)

calling it smut is lowkey misleading, but it's definitely extremely very sexy. day 7 of summer75, set in the weird tentative dating era after you and george reunite. enjoy <3

you're in bed when your phone buzzes beside you, cocooned in blankets while watching a third consecutive episode of drag race; when you see the caller ID, you extract your arms as fast as you can, one hand scrambling to mute snatch game while you answer the call with the other, smile surely audible. “hi, george.”

“hi, angel,” comes the reply, the always-devastating combo of gravel voice and pet name awakening the butterflies in your stomach. fuck, you've missed him. “how was work?”

“was okay. busy.”

“you're settling in alright, though, yeah? nobody giving you grief?”

“yeah, everyone’s nice. how was your day?”

“busy, too. really busy, actually,” george sighs. “still found time to miss you, though.”

you smile. “i missed you too, babe.”

“missed you calling me that and all,” he giggles after he speaks, the same stupidly high laugh that's always made your heart feel funny. “sorry for how uncool i'm being, by the way. i know we said we'd be cool about everything, about us, but…”

“s'alright. i get it,” you reply, not unkindly, because you do get it, you understand completely. choosing not to rush back into a relationship seemed like the sensible thing for you and george to do after four years and a few countries apart, but it's proving to be much more difficult in practice; he is your first (and honestly only) love, after all, and you never could resist that voice. or those eyes. or those lips, actually - the first time you kissed him again recently (just a normal smooch, mind you), you almost swooned. like, actually swooned, proper virgin behaviour. “feel like a teenager all over again with you, to be honest.”

“so do i, baby - can i call you that, or-?”

jesus. you hope you don't sound too breathlessly desperate. “of course.”

“thanks, baby,” the grin on george's face is obvious, and yours widens even more as you wriggle further out of your blanket cocoon and roll onto your stomach. “but yeah, i genuinely do feel like i'm seventeen again…”

“good film, that.”

“knew that was coming as soon as i said it,” he sighs down the phone, before joining in with your giggling. “genuinely, though, angel - feel like it's still 2007, because all i can think about is kissing you. m'serious. can't get anything done.”

you kick your legs back and forth, overjoyed to hear him admit he feels the same as you. still, you don't miss the opportunity to take the piss out of him. “jesus, it's the new gucci perfume fiasco all over again.”

“christ, don't remind me of that,” george groans, voice slightly muffled by what you know is him facepalming, dragging his hand down his face slowly; he's a creature of habit, your… well, your george. “thought i’d died and gone to heaven when i got a whiff of it the day we ran into each other in the shop, when we first saw each other again.”

“shut up.”

“m'not kidding, baby. driven me mental since day one, that perfume.”

you rest your head on your folded arms, wistful. “i remember. you walking into the art classroom door because you were that distracted trying to lean over and smell me? how could i forget?”

“yeah, well, it had its benefits too, that day,” george retorts. “if i recall correctly, it motivated me to get all my homework done quickly so i could kiss you, no?”

“that's true,” you allow yourself to briefly get lost in the memory, so strong you swear you can feel the shitty bic pen in your hand now. the flashback progresses to a scene you almost wore out repeating at the time, the workbooks and pencilcases shoved off the bed, and school uniforms following as you and george took advantage of having his house to yourself that monday afternoon. despite not having even discussed doing that with george in the modern version of your relationship yet, the mention of that after-school activity leaves your lips before you realise. “and if i recall correctly, we did a lot more than kiss that night.”

there's silence from the other end of the phone line. a very particular, pregnant type of silence, one that you intuitively know will end with something pivotal to you and george's relationship; despite this make or break moment, you keep quiet, not wanting to make it worse by fumbling an apology or explanation, even though you've got a growing sense of creeping dread that you might've just fucked the whole dynamic up beyond repair already.

and then he speaks, and you can exhale again. “i think about that a lot, you know.”

the atmosphere shifts again - it's still one of anticipation, but of the more… sensual variety, you'd say. heart pounding against your sternum, you wriggle out of the blankets completely, clicking the tv off so you can give george your complete, undivided attention. “yeah?”

“yeah. that night, and my eighteenth, and your eighteenth. prom, and all our holidays, and christening your uni flat,” george hums, giggling after he's done listing. “just any time we fucked, really.”

“you miss it?”

he sighs. “a lot.”

“so do i,” you say softly. “i really miss… no,” you close your mouth, shaking your head. “i can't say it. not yet. s'inappropriate.”

“baby,” there's a hint of forcefulness in george's voice, and it goes straight to your already-slick core. “tell me, please. wanna hear you.”

fuck. you really have missed him.

you sigh. “you're sure you wanna do this?”

“angel, i've never been more sure of anything,” george replies, and you know he means it. “talk to me.”

“alright,” you can't help smiling, both at george and the memory. “was gonna say that i really miss the way you would hold me after we both came, you know? you'd just wrap your whole body around me and kiss my neck, and i'd just feel, y'know, so safe, and happy,” you pause, then grin. “i mean, i miss the actual sex too, of course, but…”

he laughs, and your heart flutters. “i miss that too, the post-shag hugging. you're cute, y'know, baby - thought you were about to say something filthy, honestly.”

you twirl a strand of hair around your finger, flirty. “well, if you want me to be dirty, g, i can. can be whatever you want me to be.”

george groans. “don't fuck me about, angel.”

“m'not!” you decide to be proper serious for a second. “i just want to make you feel good, george. i miss doing that. i miss you,” you bite your lip, releasing it slowly in a poor imitation of the man at the other end of the phone line. “and i want you. i really, really want you.”

another brief silence, then he replies. “how do you want me?”

you smirk. “you tell me. like i said, sweetheart, whatever - and however - you want me to be… i'll do it.”

“well, in that case,” god, his voice. “i want you to come over. right now. how does that sound?”

“perfect,” you aren't lying. “is there anything else you want me to do?”

“be my girlfriend again, but we can discuss that when you get here, yeah?”

you beam, kicking your legs excitedly. finally. “yeah. alright,” you roll out of bed and make a beeline for your lingerie collection. “i'll be over as soon as i get changed, babe.”

“please be quick,” george sighs. “oh, a final thing, baby?”

“yeah?”

the smirk on his face is crystal clear. “bring a vibrator.”

[weeeeeekly]

quarter life crisis – ot5 tomorrow x together x afab!reader

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blurb !!! Reincarnation can bring soulmates together despite their time apart. Being a huge fan of TOMORROW X TOGETHER helped you get through the struggles of entering early adulthood. You would thank them personally if you ever could but when you possibly get the chance it’s more than what you could ever hope for.

info !!! txt are still idols, reincarnation au, soulmates au, polyamory, throuple²… they’ll all eventually date each other, mc has mental health struggles, universe assigned lactose intolerance, team no kids, glasses wearer, lives in the middle of fuck nowhere but still a city (just go with it), pet names used are “our love” and princess, & not edited.

wc: 1.7k

WARNINGS !!! NSFW, MDNI, 18+, extremely self-indulgent, soft yandere!txt, mentions of mental health & self-harm (nothing graphic) for entire series

author’s note !!! This is fiction!!! this is made up!!! I do not condone breaking in, stalking, and other ulterior motives to get close to someone you are romantically interested in.

why are there not more ot5!txt x fem/afab or gender-neutral reader… mandatory note that i do not think txt act like this in real life. I also cannot come up with a blurb for the life of me, so please peep the info tags.

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CHAPTER THREE

TXT could not just be friends with you – their soulmate – the one person left on this Earth to complete them. Someone made for them. Their last love from their previous life.

They could play the long game with you. They had all the time in the world now that you were back in their lives.

They watch from the peephole to figure out your schedule. After Taehyun’s first accidentally run in with you, he made sure to go to the gym early in the morning, but soon realized that you didn’t leave for work until 7 AM. He learned that when he was walking back to the apartment the next day when you greeted him while locking your door. Soobin learned that you got home around 4:30 PM when he went out to get snacks. Kai learned what car you drove and your designated parking spot when he was sitting on the balcony, strumming his guitar. Beomgyu learned that your room was on the other side of the thin wall of their kitchen when he heard you talking to a friend at 11 PM every night. Yeonjun learned that your roommate worked as an ER nurse and would be working all day Friday when he overheard them on the phone in the laundry room.

You were still shy and nervous around them, which they found absolutely adorable, but you would remember everything soon. Even if they had to help you.

When Friday rolled around, the guys made sure to be awake by 6:30 AM to watch you leave for work with your roommate. They wait until they see your car drive off before they go next door. They climb over the railing of their porch to yours and crack open the sliding door that you never locked. Once inside, they beeline to your room.

The door was closed but not locked. Soobin opens the door slowly to your safe space and the closest they’ll get to you for now. Once they get over the shock and excitement of the posters and merch you have of them, they get to business.

Beomgyu flops down on your bed to inhale the detergent you used, clutching one of the pillows. Yeonjun opens your closet to peruse and maybe take a clothing item or two – for safe keeping, of course. Taehyun takes pictures of your calendar for your schedule for the rest of the month and anything else he deems important to know. Kai goes to your vanity to smell, and steal, your perfumes as he gets the travel spray from his pocket. And Soobin has to keep calm as he looks at your TXT shelf. He can tell that you love and care about their group.

As the others finish their side quests, they all gather around Soobin. Your adorable self has collected all their Korean albums. By the window is a white shelf under a collage of ripped out photos from their albums, the top shelf sits a binder with keychain plushies of their representative emojis, the next shelf houses their albums in release order, and the bottom shelf is their light stick and other merch. The twin shelf has albums from other groups, but they can’t be bothered to care when you have a whole shelf dedicated to them.

Kai sighs in content, “She was perfect before, but now she’s the most perfect person in the universe.”

The rest agree as Taehyun takes a picture.

“We should leave soon. The protocol team keep spamming the group chat asking for a video call.”

Staying in their soulmate’s room was cut short as Beomgyu accepted a phone call from a staff member as the guys make sure everything in your room is in the exact same place as before.

“Thank god you finally picked up! Why are you not in LA?”

“Um, we had some issues with our connecting flight.” Beomgyu tells staff as he hears the protocol team talk over each other through the speaker while he climbs over the railing to the neighboring porch.

“It’s been week! We can’t keep pushing back the In the Soop filming at the retreat house. What hotel are you in? We’ll just book the next ticket to LA from NYC.”

“There’s no need. We had a change in plans lol sorry. Manager-nim is watching over us as we film content here. Talk to you soon, bye!” Beomgyu hangs up as shouting starts and turns his phone completely off. The other members look at him as he shrugs.

“Is Manager-nim enjoying their cruise?”

Soobin shows the spam of photos their manager sent them yesterday while they were docked in a city in Europe. They made sure the free cruise they offered their manager had no wifi on the boat and paid for VIP treatment so they would be off their phone for the rest of the month as they cruised across the world.

“We should be good for another 3 weeks of peace.”

Yeonjun goes back to his shared room with Beomgyu and Taehyun to study English pick up lines, Soobin and Kai decide to watch an English movie to study their English, and Beomgyu and Taehyun head to the gym.

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Honestly, things could be worse.

The universe is somehow on your side while simultaneously being against you. Your favorite musicians, that you have major crushes on, moved in next door to you for some reason that you’re still searching for. TXT are acting like this is normal for them while you’re constantly trying to stop yourself from screaming, crying, throwing up, and other emotes whenever you see them.

You try to close your eyes for a second to resituate yourself before working on another spreadsheet, but the current state of your desk makes you rethink. Random inclusions from albums decorate your workspace – postcards and mini posters stuck to the whiteboard with magnets, fan made freebies displayed, and a TXT calendar from their season’s greetings for the year. You decorated your space with your other interests, but all of your coworkers knew about your love for TXT.

Speaking of coworkers, every time you made eye contact with one, they would send you a sympathetic look after the hiatus news came out. You’re 1000% sure that everyone knows that you cried in the bathroom after their sympathy “party”, but you were going to ignore that thought.

The rest of your day went by smoothly – well, as smooth as a day can when all you think about is world famous international sensation boy group TXT are your neighbors when they’re allegedly on hiatus. You give up on trying to jump through hoops to make sense of your very niche predicament.

roomie working overtime again

roomie going to our dream vacay fund

Getting ready to show up to an empty apartment, you triple check to make sure you saved your work and clean your desk space for tomorrow. The drive home is mundane as always, but ever since TXT moved in next door, you can’t bring yourself to listen to their music. You never acted like this unless your post-concert depression was really bad.

You may not be able to bring yourself to play your favorite songs, but you can get answers from the sources themselves.

Before you’re able to knock on your neighbor’s door, the door opens to have you facing Kai.

“Hi Kai. Can I come over?”

He mumbles your name as he steps aside to the view of Soobin napping on the couch, Yeonjun reading a magazine, and Beomgyu and Taehyun playing some video game, bickering in Korean.

Apologetically, you announce yourself, “Hey guys, sorry to barge in last minute.”

Beomgyu and Taehyun whip their head in your direction and drop their controllers at the same time. Yeonjun lowers the magazine from his face to make eye contact with you only to then cartoonishly fumble it in his hands, then trying to play it cool to read the upside-down magazine. And Soobin is rudely awoken when Kai pinches his nose.

“I have many questions, some that I know you’ll probably never answer, but please,” You kneel down and clasp your hands together, “Please answer my questions.”

You didn’t realize that your plea would send the guys into shock as Kai and Beomgyu barely function to help you on the couch. You switch places with them as the calm down standing up.

“What questions do you have?” Taehyun asks.

“How did you and Yeonjun get so good at English?”

Yeonjun’s face turns cherry red and causes him to hide behind his hands as Taehyun stares at you, taken aback.

“W-well, we had English lessons. We just watched English movies to improve.”

“You two are basically fluent.”

“Thank you, really.”

You grin is reciprocated by the duo as you twiddle your fingers, dreading to ask the next question, but you selfishly needed to know.

“Is TXT really on hiatus?”

Yeonjun looks back to the rest of the members as Soobin nods, turning back to Taehyun, he nods as well.

Your heart plummets to your stomach as you continue, “It’s not forever, right?”

Soobin walks closer as he speaks up, “Just a break. We need a break.”

You refused to check social media after the announcement. Basically, a break from social media despite it being forced so you don’t spiral. Thankfully, the only people in your life that brought it up was your work but even then, that didn’t feel real. You silently thank your roommate for not saying anything to you.

“I have a question.”

“Go ahead, Kai.”

“Do you feel…” Kai leans over to whisper in Taehyun’s ear.

“Uncomfortable.”

Kai nods as he tries again, “Do you feel uncomfortable around us?”

“Am I uncomfortable around you? More like are you uncomfortable around me! I’m a fan.”

Beomgyu kneels in front of you as his hands gently hold your face, “Our beautiful MOA.”

If someone would feel your chest, they would feel your heart beating fast enough to power a car engine. Your eyes grow wide as you stare into Beomgyu’s. The rest of the guys’ heart swell as they watch the scene that reminds them of the past. You loved it when they caressed your face.

With shaky hands, you reach up to gently take his hands off you as you abruptly stand up.

“I need to go. Bye.” Running out, slamming their door and then your door as you lean against the wall.

You were certainly going to have trouble sleeping tonight.

masterlist | previous | next

[ellesthots]

Fateful Beginnings

XXIV. “natural curiosity”

parts: previous / next

plot: under extreme pressure to perform, you prepare for your first and final interview with Bruce Wayne. Batman learns intriguing info on the gruesome murder of John Doe.

pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x fem!reader

cw: 18+, mental illness, anxiety

words: 3.2k

a/n: this brings me to the end of my back-posting! we are now up to date across tumblr, ao3, and wattpad 🥳 excited to keep writing more soooon 👀

Was this some kind of cruel punishment?

If it hadn't been for Dr. Vry's unfortunately logical and desperate plea, you wouldn't have said yes—now you were left flying back for half a week. With enrollment for freshmen starting the first day of September, you had to have this in to Bridgit the morning after meeting with him. Thinking of all the belongings you'd just bought for the apartment you thought you'd be living in, you decided against a flight and booked a U-haul for that weekend instead. You'd see if Mar wanted to drive back with you in it, and if not you'd buckle down and do it yourself.

Your parents came back not an hour later. After a few minutes of hugs and chitchat they put themselves to bed, exhausted. Your mom didn't appear critically ill or markedly different in any way (besides a darker tan), so you let yourself relax for the evening out on the couch. A rerun was on the television, the air was stale, and the setting sun stabbed your eyes. You grappled with feelings of guilt as the minutes turned into hours of nothing. You loved them, but was this all you had to look forward to?

Bruce busied himself with monotonous tasks the rest of the day. The panic attack had wiped him out physically, but his mind was wired. A still-relevant yet menial task he felt he could get into a rhythm with involved stealing the giant stack of newspapers Alfred kept by his fireplace in his office for kindling. He flipped through pages and pages of decades-old Gazette publishings, refusing to indulge his curiosity as he passed the months directly preceding or proceeding his parent's murder. It felt like an impossible feat as he discarded them to his left, forcing his eyes to remain tethered to the current moment. Eventually he found clippings from the past few years, and he nestled into the corner chair to pore over their contents. Why was the Gazette failing? Why was the journalism department going to shut down? He distinctly remembered his parents reading the Gazette together every Sunday before church. On the walk to church, he remembered people sitting on park benches reading it. He only paid attention to the comic strip curated by the art majors, but even as a young kid he knew the paper was influential.

As he skimmed through the recent few years of publishing he couldn't discern why sales were lower. It was putting out relevant information that was decent to read... He stood up and walked down the hall to Alfred's room, and found him buttoning his cuffs. "Master Wayne, what's wrong?"

Bruce shook his head. "You read the Gazette, right? Do you know how many people read it?"

Alfred finished the last button and shook out his sleeves to straighten them. He shrugged. "I don't know precisely, but in concept it seems to be doing rather well. On my grocery trips I see lots of people reading it."

Bruce nodded and made some small talk for a moment about dinner ("I've been craving some sausage and cabbage soup, would you mind that, boy?") before making his way back to Alfred's office. He logged onto the computer and looked up sales for the Gazette. While there had been a decline, it had been slow and not enough to completely shut down a department. After looking into Gotham's budget, he realized there was enough budget and in fact, the majority of the Gotham finances were allocated between GCPD and GU. Looking into the school attendance rate there was still a good amount of students applying to the university; less people going into journalism, sure, but still enough to warrant continuing the major. Was Vry a particularly attentive and anxious president, or was it manipulation to get him to agree to be interviewed?

Alfred forced him away by physically walking upstairs to bring Bruce down, and they ate the soup in silence. It was warm, and soothed him enough to take the edge off his guttural sense of impending doom.

The next day he got a call from Gordon. A quick change into the suit and a back exit getaway later, Bruce found himself at the police station. The guards stiffened their spines and glared at him as he walked up; usually it didn't bother him, but after being discovered he felt every eye on him was an x-ray. He walked down a dingy, slim hallway to Gordon's office and knocked on the door. Gordon invited him in, appearing visibly stressed. "In the office on a Saturday?"

"Hey. I don't know what to tell you, but the results came in inconclusive."

Bruce narrowed his eyes. "No idea what the metal is?"

"That's not exactly the problem." He reached into the desk and pulled out a plastic EVIDENCE bag smattered with pokes from the sharp metal inside. It landed on the table with a sharp rap. "We know what it is, but we are lost as to its function."

Bruce swirled the bag so the shrapnel tilted and moved about its cage. Gordon continued. "We brought in a few dentists, even one doctor, to clarify why this might be used as a filling but no one had heard of it before." He quickly continued. "Well, one guy did. Said he used to be a chemist. He'd heard of the metal, but said it was bordering on corrosive. He couldn't make head nor tail of why it would be used in a man's mouth."

"What is it?"

"The man said 'Electrum'. I made him repeat it because it sounded made up." Gordon rolled his eyes and bit his lip, lost in thought. His tone was biting. "I just want to find these punks. Can't have someone causing crime scenes like that running loose."

He'd never heard of Electrum. He opened his mouth to speak but Gordon continued again. He's talkative today. "The man said its properties are that of a 'spark to light up the wire'. Something about conductivity. I think it's just some man who got an under-the-table dental. Probably cracked open a soda can and peeled off a clip to tuck into his gums." By the end he was mumbling, and quickly stood up.

"They were certain it's Electrum?"

Gordon nodded. "He said it was clear. Bet his life on it." And with that he left, motioning to be followed out.

Electrum. Nothing could be found on the web about it. Alfred didn't know, and there had never been a mention about it in any newspaper since 1800 (any further back he couldn't find). By this point he was exhausted, and hadn't even realized he'd pulled a whole weekend staying wide awake. He physically pored over every newspaper article himself pre-1900, his smart engine struggling and misreading the small, fuzzied print. There was nothing that could even be vaguely related to Electrum. Fuck. He dragged his feet up to bed and crashed early Sunday evening.

Had it really only been a strange, foreign filling? Usually this would be his favorite type of thing to sleuth out, something no one could find but he could; he would read the small print from an article in 1806 and solve the mystery, following its crumb trail to an ultimate victory. It was the perfect catharsis, but he was too in his head. All Monday afternoon he twiddled his thumbs and waited for evening, but when evening came he couldn't bring himself to put on his suit. That one scrap metal felt like it was lodged in his tooth, giving him an emotional toothache. He slipped into bed and laid on his back with his arms behind his head. He gazed up at the ceiling, drawing a mental map of the situation. The John Doe couldn't be traced back. Dentist, former chemist, clarified it was Electrum. Electrum can't be found anywhere. No trace of it. Testing was inconclusive. Bordering on corrosive. Man was stabbed repeatedly and hung by the blades. Owls were etched into hilt. Owls were etched into pins and rings of the Gotham University president... Bruce squinted. How could he gain more information on Dr. Vry? His first thought was a Batman interrogation, second idea stalking her in his car for a week to see what she was up to. Both options, especially the latter, caused an internal cringe. Much like he couldn't shake his suspicion about Electrum, he couldn't shake the thought you embedded in him that he was too invasive.

Being invasive to criminals isn't bad. Often, it's the only way to catch them. Your voice came into his mind. And you're assuming she's a criminal. What happened to probable cause?

Her jewelry insignias perfectly match those on the weapon in an unsolved murder.

Perfectly, huh?

Almost.

Almost, yeah.

Even imaginary you mocked him. He continued having a conversation with himself until Alfred knocked on his door. He bristled and sat upright in bed. The old man leaned against the doorframe and gazed at him, spectacled. "Wanted to check in. Social battery ran out, I assume?"

Bruce stared down at his sheets. "Unsolved murder. Can't find any clues."

"Peculiar. Not much stumps you these days."

He struggled not to receive it sarcastically given how vigilant Alfred had been about his mental wellbeing the past few months. He hoped this wasn't another request for him to meet with his therapist, but his hopes were quickly dashed. "I called New Discoveries, they have a few openings this week and next."

Bruce bit back a retort. "If I ever need her, I'll give her a call."

"Bruce,"

"Stop, please. I've got enough to deal with right now."

He leaned in and raised his eyebrows at the boy. "Your analyst could help with that."

"I don't need someone to tell me my parents died."

Alfred heaved a deep sigh. "I'm worried about you."

"I'm not talking about this." This was the push he needed to get out and into his suit. He jumped out of bed and strode firmly past him, ignoring Alfred's calls to get him to 'just make a phone call'. He was surprisingly swift getting into the suit and out on the town. Guilt plagued him at abandoning Alfred, but this was about the tenth time they'd had that conversation since June and it was making him ill. He wouldn't mind seeing his therapist again, he'd liked going after the murder, but he didn't think he could handle being forced to reckon with his mortality at this point in his progression. He still wasn't sure it existed, and until he tied up all the loose ends about the owls, or his symptoms got significantly worse, he was going to ride this last high as long as it let him.

The next few days with your parents went smoothly. It was almost like before your mom had gotten sick, plus Walter. Walter was ecstatic to see your parents back, and you no longer sobbed in the shower out of lonely desperation. You were able to distract effectively through various arts and crafts with your mom, and by the time you were starting to need 'me' time she would tire. You spent some time with your dad fixing the back deck and pulling some weeds out of the raised flower beds. You tended to the pumpkins your parents had planted in June, and harvested some bell peppers and blueberries.

You avoided thinking about Gotham until you were in Gotham; you hadn't even mentioned to your parents you'd been fired/quit, and figured they'd know when a U-Haul ended up at their house with you and Mar inside. The quiet neighborhood was relaxing when your family was around, but that desperate feeling of loneliness was pinned to your chest. The town felt more desolate after being in the city, the quiet felt heavier when they were gone, and knowing how fragile her health was you figured you'd spend more of your life without her than with her. The combination threatened to consume you, and you spent every lull in conversation and every night lying in bed unable to sleep from worry about finding your purpose in life. What interested you? What motivated you? What were your values? How could all of the above be translated into a livable life?

Where did you belong? Did you belong here, in the sleepy town with wide open skies? Did you belong in a city with skyscrapers and sardine-squishing sidewalks? You liked the access the city afforded you. When you'd first moved there, you'd been enthralled by the hundreds of restaurants and stores within a mile's radius. You'd maxed out a small credit card being silly and young, trying cuisines you'd never even heard of. You found cute themed shops that were abhorrently overpriced but nonetheless aesthetically pleasing to visit. But the city moved so fast, and just in time for you to settle into a routine with a favorite restaurant they'd be closing shop. It was cutthroat and intimidating, and you felt softer. Too soft. Life here was too slow as to be entirely, aggravatingly boring. There were only a handful of restaurants in town and they were all dying fast food chains strung out amongst various struggling mom and pop shops that wouldn't dare invite in a health inspector. But the nature was beautiful, and sometimes you loved the quiet breeze of it all. You had no friends besides Mar who you could never see leaving the city, a degree that was worthless in the current economy, and your extended family lived in south Florida for some unknown reason. You only saw them once a year at a family reunion that was usually in July, but had been postponed to Christmas. Ugh.

On Monday you set off for Gotham. You'd arrived on time a few days earlier to ensure you could properly pack your stuff. Day one was filled with throwing out the perishable groceries and giving yourself a moment to breathe outside of your childhood home. The food tasted bland, your favorite shows had lost their spark, and your bed was lumpy and hard. The floors were cement and made your feet ache with every slapping step. The water took ages to heat up compared to home, and you kept watching your step for Walter who never showed. The flight had been frustrating. Your head pounded. You felt like screaming into an empty field, creating a dust storm from pounding your hands into the dirt until you were bruised.

Day two after arriving back to Gotham, you sat down at your small desk in the corner to think up some questions. It was impossible to focus, but you kept yourself to task by repeating you'd be out of here permanently, genuinely, so, so soon. As you stared at the blank page, anxiety sprouted. It hadn't before occurred to you that everyone would be reading this; in fact, everyone would likely be seeking this out so much it would be translated to different languages hours after being published. For a moment you couldn't wrap your head around why this time felt so much more high-stakes, and then you remembered the fate of an entire university department rested on how marketable and quality this interview was... and remembered how obscenely rich and powerful the subject was. You twiddled your fingers just slightly above the keyboard, nervous to even begin to dive into it.

The first thing you did was peruse Scypher, especially their forum sections.

SEARCH: Bruce Wayne

SEARCH: Mr. Wayne

SEARCH: Bruce

SEARCH: billionaire

SEARCH: Gotham

SEARCH: Gotham City

SEARCH: Gotham and Bruce

SEARCH: Gotham and Bruce Wayne

You sifted through hundreds—if not thousands—of posts thirsting after him. There were pap photos, one-shots written daydreaming about him, some tweets hating on how rich he was (you liked those), but the vast majority were simply pining after him in a public arena. You got a small sense of what people wanted to see from him, but not enough to create a substantial question.

You went onto Google and searched the same things. A handful of articles from major news outlets were titled similarly: What We Know About Bruce Wayne, the Orphaned Billionaire. People generally knew about the circumstances of his parent's murder, that he lived at home with his maids and butlers (was there more than one Alfred?) and everything that he'd announced at Gotham University graduation. There was logistical data on his Wikipedia page such as his height, birth date, current age, and where he went to school growing up. Information for the past decade was slim, the only bits being where he attended college, his date of graduation, and his major. It appeared the only times since his parent's death he peeked out into the public eye were school-related.

No one knew anything about his personal life, and you worked yourself into a tizzy brainstorming ways to persuade him into talking about himself. Where was the line between too benign of a question and too invasive of one? What was relevant information to someone high-profile's first interview? You'd spent hours digging into the first interviews of now-major celebrities, but they all happened before they rocketed into fame. This was different: he was born famous, and now at age 30 he was finally speaking to someone. After a certain point in your research you feared you would need to be the blueprint for this kind of thing; even nepo babies had been interviewed as children, asked questions such as their favorite musicians, movies, books, and colors. How did you show the public he was normal, personable, even? Did you even want to make him appear normal, because he didn't seem it. He was an enigma. Someone you couldn't quite peg.

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. What's my goal with this? No one else's, mine? What do I want to learn about him? What are my natural curiosities? This led to an immediate rush of creative energy, questions popping up left and right; you didn't care about how invasive or off-kilter they might seem. After the brainstorming, you gathered the questions into three categories: COMFORTABLE - DEEPER - DANGEROUS.

The first contained questions that were more basic, and likely wouldn't elicit an emotional response in any way to the interviewee. The second probed a bit more, considered more thorough and juicy. At this point an interviewee might be more choosy with their phrasing, or pause to think about it. The final category was fully questions of your own mind, questions you didn't think you'd ever ask but wanted to be put to paper. These were so juicy as to be intimate, so personal as to be disorienting.

When else would a woman have the leverage to ask such a dizzyingly powerful man anything she wanted?