#most of the time she was hallucinating there was absolutely nothing to worry about we just had a few extra variables

[thedreadvampy]

sometimes I forget that my experience has been. um. not 'your experiences are not universal' vibes but more like 'your experiences are EXTREMELY atypical'

[reidintoit]

all you had to do was stay - j.m.

pairing: jj maybank x reader

summary: in which the pogues have been stuck on poguelandia for a couple weeks, and not everyone wants to leave when help arrives.

warnings: angst, unplanned pregnancy

word count: 1.2k

It had been almost two weeks since getting stranded on the island, or Poguelandia, as JJ ever so generously decided to name it. 

In that time you were impressed at how far along Poguelandia had come. John B and Pope had become experts at hand fishing. All while JJ had done an impressive job of building a shelter. It really wasn’t anything too fancy, given the resources, but having a place to shield yourself from the weather was a win in your book. 

The only prominent downside was having no soap to properly bathe with. And that we all only had one outfit, which was also in dire need of some soap. 

Another inconvenience we were reminded of was when Sarah got her period, then Kiara almost hours later. Cleo wasted no time in bragging about not having a period to worry about thanks to her IUD. 

-

“Here-” you broke the conversation, “I have a couple of tampons that have dried out since the swim. Not the most hygienic thing, but it’s this or nothing.” 

Kie took one from you without hesitation, while Sarah visibly looked revolted at the thought before giving in. “Absolutely disgusting, but thanks Y/N.” Sarah thanked you, walking in the opposite direction of Kie.

“Shouldn’t you keep one for yourself?” Cleo implored, causing you to tense up. There’s no way she knows I’m late. Does she? No. 

“Oh, uh-no. On the shot, probably won’t get mine for another month or so.”

The truth is, you were late. As in almost two weeks late. Before this, the longest had been maybe three days. But this was different. You were away from home, obviously stressed to the max. Your period was most likely just off due to your stress. And not the unprotected sex you had.

-

You could tell that being away from home was starting to weigh on everyone’s minds. Kiara feared her parents already reported her missing. Sarah didn’t know where Ward might be, but it was obvious she missed having a house to go home to. Pope knew his dad must be worried sick. John B wondered if somehow Big John returned while he was gone. 

You, JJ, and Cleo seemed to be the only ones who didn’t care to go back. 

JJ hadn’t seen his dad in months. Not since him and Kie helped get him off the island. He didn’t seem too distraught about being alone, considering you had stayed over almost every night at the chateau since you two started dating. 

While your parents were still around, you knew they weren’t missing you. Or noticing your absence, really. Your parents had never been abusive, they just didn’t care about you.

So, at the moment, being hundreds of miles away with your best friends felt like paradise. That is until Pope and John B noticed a plane flying above on their daily fishing trip.

-

“Guys! Hey- Come look!” John B’s voice suddenly pierced through your ears, causing you to look up from the fire pit that you were currently digging in, attempting to build the flames higher.

“What man?” JJ asked, pushing up off the ground from his spot next to you. You raised an eyebrow at whatever John B was going on about, watching him struggle to catch his breath while running up the beach. 

“There’s a plane overhead! Look!” 

As the three of you collectively looked up, you saw it almost immediately, slightly surprised that it wasn’t just John B hallucinating. “Holy shit!” JJ shouted back, sharing JB’s excitement. 

“Come on, everyone’s waving it down by the landing strip!” John B continued and started running back towards where he came from. JJ looked down at you, who had gone back to digging in the fire pit. 

“Hey, babe. Come on- we have to get their attention!” 

“You go, I’ll stay here and start gathering some things.” JJ nodded and leaned down to quickly place a kiss on your forehead before running down the beach after John B.

Fuck. fuck. There was no way you were going back to OBX. Life had been so much better since getting here. Going back to a family that hated you sent a chill down your spine at the thought. Especially if you really were pregnant.

You noticed the plane turning around as you stood up from the pit, then JJ running back towards you, to tell you the good news you presumed. 

“Y/N! They’re getting ready to land. Let’s go!”

You shook your head with your back towards him, not realizing that you were frozen in thought staring at the fire you finally had started. 

“I’m not going J..” you whispered, unsure if he heard you. He must have, because you felt a gentle grip on your wrist, urging you to turn around. 

“What? Babe, look at me.. please?” JJ pleaded, sounding defeated and confused at your sudden decision to stay on the island. You dropped your head in defeat, “I can't. I-I can’t go back, okay? I don’t want to.” 

You felt the hand on your wrist release as your boyfriend maneuvered around to stand in front of you. You opened your eyes to see JJ’s face full of concern as you bit your lip, salty tears rushing down your face. 

“Baby.. I understand.” JJ reached out to wipe away your tears, feeling the pads of his fingers across your cheek. “I don’t want to leave either. This has been awesome.” 

You harshly pushed his hand off of your face in response. “No, you don’t understand! I’m late..” pausing to take a breath, “I don’t know if I’m pregnant, obviously there aren’t any tests here, but I know I can’t go back. My parents.. they-they already are so disappointed in me. I’m free here.”

JJ was quiet after listening to you explain. He was disappointed in you for sure. You wondered why he wouldn’t just say it. Blame you for being irresponsible and potentially getting knocked up. You deserved it. 

Tears started pooling up again as you turned away from JJ, who still hadn’t moved a muscle. “Wait, Y/N.”

“Just leave.” you begged, voice cracking.

“I’m not... Y/N, fuck!” he shouted, wrapping his arms around you and turning you back to him. “I’m not leaving you here. If you do happen to be pregnant, I’m going to be by your side every step.. Okay?” 

You rolled your eyes, looking down at the sand between the two of you. “You don’t want that.. you’re just saying it.” 

JJ cupped your cheek, tilting your head back up towards him. He studied your face as you took a deep breath, opening your eyes to see him smiling at you. “No fucking way Y/N. Just the thought of having a mini you running around makes me so happy.”

“Really?”

“Really baby.” JJ pushed a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Now, please, come home with me?” 

You nodded in agreeance, smiling before you felt his lips on yours. There was nothing you wanted more.

[brw]

1, 9 and 10 for your ask game please!

1) the character everyone gets wrong

I'd go with Hank Pym and Janet Van Dyne, and I know that's cheating because that's two, but in my defence, the ways in which people get them wrong independently absolutely inform the ways they get the other wrong to.

Janet is a lot more proactive in her relationship with Hank than people give her credit for, and was a much bigger reason of why their relationship failed than people also give her credit for. There's a push to rewrite history and make her a very flat victim, and I can see why, but it's frustrating because I think it's a lot more interesting that Janet repeatedly and purposefully ignored multiple warning signs that Hank's health was imperiled simply because she held on to a belief that love could overcome anything, including a man's undiagnosed and unmedicated schizophrenia. It is JANET who makes the decision to marry. She is essentially the one who proposed, after Hank–hallucinating as Yellowjacket and genuinely thinks he is his own murderer–kidnaps her, then briefly becomes lucid and backs off.

Genuinely, right. Genuinely. I don't think the Hank we see here, violently hallucinating, thinking he murdered himself and having a totally different persona and attitude, was in a position to give meaningful consent! I think it's very clear this is a man a danger to himself and to other people, who was not in the right frame of mind to agree to marriage, but people prefer to write Janet as a very basic victim, which I think is a massive disservice to the actually really nuanced way her relationship with Hank was sometimes written, where Hank was clearly unwell and Janet knew it but thought it was an issue that could be fixed with holiday's and sex and Avenging and not a more fundamental psychological one, and that's a far more interesting story to me.

9) worst part of canon

Lotta things I can put here. I think at the moment I am most frustrated by "Krakoa had no people on it before mutants fine, therefore it isn't an ethnostate and it's totally cool and awesome", because the lie of "there were no people here before us!" has been used time and time again throughout history to justify genocide, oppression, violence and colonialism, and I do not think it is the place of the white Americans in charge of writing Krakoa to essentially legitimise those lies because they didn't want to write Magneto or Nightcrawler or Wolverine and company to be out and out colonisers. If you are writing this kind of project, I think you should have the dignity to commit to it.

10) worst part of fanon

in no particular order

Dadneto, House of M dynasty as a whole

Charles is walking. More than anything else with Cherik this annoys me the most. Motherfucker I'll break his legs myself. Please at the very least let the disabled character be disabled.

The notion that Sue/Namor is real and happened

Logan Howlett girldad

Crystal doesn't exist in the Maximoff family conversation, related to that I once saw a haha fandom meme where Crystal was called an absent parent and that is so fundmantally untrue it felt like I was being trolled

Claremont's racism and zionism isn't real don't worry about it. Close your eyes and only mention it when it's something you can't pretend doesn't exist like Kitty Pryde saying the n word multiple times

Hank McCoy was Always Evil and Always Fated To Go Dark. That's just a regular man forced to hang out with his high school friends after three years of doing nothing but smoke weed with a gay 1950s theatre nerd. You would turn "evil" too.

That Reed Richards doesn't love his wife??? He invented comic guys being really intense about their wives. Leave him alone... that's the love of his life above all else??? Excuse me.

[starryeyeddreamer21]

Hazbin Hotel cooking head canons

Alastor: I think we can all agree he's the best cook in the hotel. He would've learned from his mom and enjoys cooking for people because of it. The first few times he cooked for them everyone was a little weary because cannibalism but he made it "vegetarian" so don't worry. Also he hates cooking with other people that spot is reserved for his mother only and everyone learns really fast to not go into the kitchen while he's cooking.

Sir Pentious: An amazing baker but not a great cook, like he can cook and it comes out fine but he always feels like something isn't right. Loves baking with Angel and Nifty. He even tries to teach Charlie how to bake. She makes no progress but he continues to teach her until he ends up in heaven.

Charlie: An absolute disaster like holy shit. Not only will she set the kitchen on fire she will also create the most disgusting food combinations and act like they're completely normal. She's doing her best I swear. She would probably try to take cooking classes but that would just end horribly.

Vaggie: Cannot cook. Everything will come out burnt and underdone at the same time. She's convinced she's cursed.

Angel: Second best cook at the hotel. Learned from his Nona. He used to cook with Molly all the time but hasn't for a while. He just didn't have the energy to cook and it always made him miss his sister too much. Eventually he got more comfortable at the hotel and started cooking again. Now he tries to cook dinner for everyone at least once a week. Loves cooking with other people he just doesn't have the patience to teach them.

Nifty: Is actually a good cook is just terrible at plating. Her food won't look good but the taste would be worth it. There might be a crunch in something that probably shouldn't be crunchy but just try not to think about it too much.

Husk: Would live off microwavable dinners if they let him. He can't cook but he'll eat anything anyone makes him. He's even eaten Charlie's disgusting food combinations like it was nothing. Can probably figure out how to make anything in the microwave if you give him the time.

Cherri: Do NOT let this woman in the kitchen. She will blow the entire place up and then do it again the next day for fun. Has probably figured out how to make bombs out of food idk how but she would.

Lucifer: He's not a bad cook he just doesn't usually have the energy or patience to do it. He prefers to make sweet foods so he'd specialize in breakfast and dessert. He can make other food too he just doesn't as much. It's probably better for him to have supervision while he cooks though. He gets distracted or just bored really easily. He'll space out or leave the room entirely to do something else and completely forget he's cooking. Like he'd be boiling potatoes to make mashed potatoes and then leave the room to do something and get distracted until suddenly he smells burning and runs into the kitchen to find that all the waters evaporated and the potatoes are burning to the bottom of the pot and he has to start over (no this has never happened to me why would you say that). Because of this Lucifer and Angel tend to cook together because Angel prefers cooking with company and they both have a sweet tooth.

Vox: Mostly lives on cup ramen and take out. He cooked once but it was dry unseasoned chicken and was never allowed to cook again. I want to say he'd have expensive taste but he's a workaholic so leftover Chinese food for the third time this week it is. I'm serious though this man hasn't slept in four days, is on the brink of hallucinating, and is surviving off caffeine, three day old leftovers that should definitely not be eaten, and pure unfiltered spite.

Valentino: He's actually a really good cook. The thing is he can't decide if he wants people to be in the kitchen with him or not because he'll be standing at the stove and ask Vox to hand him something and then five minutes later he's yelling because Vox is in his way. It's a very stressful experience for everyone except Valentino who finds it calming.

Velvette: She's pretty average honestly. Like she can cook fine but it's nothing exciting. She loves trying new recipes she sees online but always gets pissed when it doesn't go as planned so then she orders takeout. She's really good at decorating though like she can't bake a cake but she'd decorate it beautifully so that actually works well with Valentino who can't use a piping bag for shit.

[mercysong-tardis]

Meeting Alex Kingston in Moll Flanders cosplay at FanX 2023

Just over a year ago, a little birdy (@now-theres-a-spoiler-for-you) informed me that to the best of her knowledge, Alex Kingston had never seen a Moll Flanders cosplayer. And as an avid appreciator of the Miniseries, I took it upon myself to become the first.

The Miniseries, "The Fortunes and Misfortunes of Moll Flanders" (1996) of which Alex Kingston starred in alongside Daniel Craig, was Alex's major breakout role which led to her role on ER and her subsequent claim to fame. So considering the prevolence, I had to make it special.

I put in a LOT of work researching, sourcing fabric, internet deep-diving, and reading before I ever got started on the dress. The actual hard work of sewing the dress took a few months to make once the initial homework was done. Undergarments? Structuring? Patterns? All of these took a lot of guesswork on my part.

The original was created by costume designer, Trisha Biggar (Which if you are in the costuming community you will know her as the designer of Padme Amidala's wardrobe and the designer for Outlander) for the 1996 miniseries. The dress was constructed of fabric Trisha Thrifted in the 1960s in Sweden, most of which I am fairly certain is Indian Fabric specifically used for Banarasi Sarees. The dress is inspired by a common silhouette from the 1670s London England, based on common evening gowns worn at the time. Considering the substantial trade happening between India and England at that time, it makes sense that a dress is fine as this would’ve been historically constructed with Banarasi silk.

The original evening gown:

Sadly, I cannot afford to construct a dress entirely out of silk in this American economy, so sourced much of my fabric overseas and while I was in Egypt and Israel this summer. The rest of it was either Thrifted or appliquéd by hand by me. All of the notions and ribbons were Thrifted. I believe in doing everything possible to keep cosplay sustainable. There is a video on my TikTok which goes into detail on my construction process.

But once the dress was done, I was ecstatic, and It was time to debut it at a convention. The morning of Thursday FanX SLC, I got some pictures (in my River wig to preserve my curled hair) and this is how they turned out...

Then it was time to show The Queenston herself. I had been a little bit stressed that she wouldn't recognise the dress or wouldn't be very interested, but I held out hope.

Spoiler Alert; I had NOTHING to worry about.

Before I got to Alex, I got an autograph from Karen Gillan, who's table was next to Alex's. While in line, I was staring in awe at Alex, as she was just under twenty feet away. In between people, Alex glanced up to the crowd, then did a double take, and leaned over her table to see me through the crowd. Her mouth dropped open, she pointed straight at me, and she got all excited, and mouthed “You! Moll Flanders! Wow!” Time slowed down and I froze until I gave her a big smile (and I think a thumbs up?) and I was so starstruck that I was convinced I was hallucinating until she added “you look amazing!” still smiling, before going back to the next person. 

When I got to her table, she greeted me as Moll,and she said she'd "Never ever, ever seen a Moll cosplayer!" and I got to tell her that I made the dress. Alex absolutely loved my Moll Flanders cosplay. She told me it was the first one she’d ever seen. She was so sweet. I wasn’t anxious at all. I was so excited to finally meet her but I didn’t cry. I was actually so relaxed, which came as a surprise, as I have a track record of being emotionally overwhelmed and crying in front of Celebrities.

She was so nice and was so impressed with the dress. We got a Photo together and she ended up grabbing the shackles (is it even Alex Kingston without a cheeky touch?)

Then she signed my Making of Moll Flanders book and she flipped through it “oh this really takes me back. This was my favorite dress. The red velvet one. It was quite warm. I loved the big hat!”

For reference this is the dress she was talking about:

Then she looked up back at my dress and asked me “aren’t they fun to wear? Don’t you feel sexy?”

I said yes.

I was a liar.

I was actually incredibly uncomfortable but I would NEVER SAY THAT TO THE QUEENSTON.

So I just smiled and said yes. (I did feel sexy but 17 hours tightlaced in 1670s stays is not fun to wear)

Then at the photo op, Alex played with my hair XD

So that is the story of my most insane cosplay yet! I hope you enjoyed all you people out there on the internet.

[praetorqueenreyna]

For our little ACOTAR gift exchange! This is a gift fic for @taymartiart, who is one of the BEST artists I've ever met! When asked what she wanted me to write, she said "accidental dick pic." This was so much fun, I love silly modern AUs! Enjoy!

Read here on AO3, or continue reading below:

Rhysand was about ready to silence his phone for the evening. It had been pinging non-stop as war raged on in the group chat. It had started with Mor saying she was craving a sparkling water, and Cassian replying to ask why she liked drinking raw sewage. That had been two hours ago, long past the point that Rhysand thought it was funny. He had also found Amren’s threat to murder Cassian by replacing his blood with sparkling water a little alarming.

There were a few minutes of peace where his phone made no noise at all. The reprieve was interrupted by a lone ding. Rhysand sighed, fully expecting the barrage to begin once again. When it didn’t, he risked actually checking his phone. The text was not from the group chat (ironically named “The Inner Circle” after Mor got way too into mafia movies, and Rhysand didn’t know how to change it), but was from Tamlin. It was a welcome distraction. Tamlin was a little weird, but Rhysand liked him. They had both started off as their fathers’ proteges, expected to take on the family business. Rhysand had fulfilled his end of the bargain, and Tamlin had run off to play guitar in coffee shops around town. An absolutely ridiculous career move, but it was endearing, in its own way.

It didn’t hurt that Tamlin was super hot and also into guys. Rhysand wasn’t too proud to admit that. He had tested the waters, putting on his most seductive voice to tease Tamlin, always just on the edge of outright flirtation. Every time, Tamlin turned a splotchy red and adorably ducked his head, which only made Rhysand want to do it again.

There was no text preview for the message; it only had an attached image. Rhysand opened it and blinked. He had worked a long day, and surely he was hallucinating. Staring at his phone didn’t change anything, and he finally accepted that Tamlin had sent him a picture of his dick.

It was nice, both the dick itself and the picture. Good size, good lighting, good angle. The photo captured his well-defined abs and a small tattoo on his hip bone. Rhysand zoomed in on the picture to see that the tattoo was a name. Alex, maybe? Or Alec? He had no idea why Tamlin had sent him this. The last text exchanged between them was from a week ago, when Rhysand had asked if he was playing this weekend. Nothing to indicate that the next step would be dick pics.

More curious than upset, Rhysand quickly typed out a message.

”Nice tattoo. Ex boyfriend?”

Tamlin began replying right away, in a series of rapid fire messages.

”What?”

“Oh.”

“Oh no.”

“Oh no no no no no.”

“I am SO sorry!!!! I didn’t mean to send that to you!!! I’d never do something like that!!!”

The overuse of exclamation points aside, Rhysand felt bad for him.

”It’s all good, I swear. Not the first dick I’ve seen.”

The reply was instantaneous.

”Oh good!! Not that you’ve seen dicks, that you’re not mad. I’m really sorry.

He probably could have ended it there, but Rhysand was intrigued.

”Who was it for?”

Tamlin didn’t respond for a bit, and Rhysand worried he had overstepped. It was an unexpected relief when another message came in.

”Some guy from Grindr. A friend signed me up for it because I haven’t gone on a date in a while. His name also begins with an R.”

The thought of Tamlin and his awkward demeanor cruising on Grindr was honestly hilarious. This friend had to have been fucking with him. Then again, he never would have expected Tamlin to send a dick pic to a random guy on a dating app, and here they were.

”Already at the dick pic stage? Seems like it's getting serious.”

This time, the reply was faster.

”Ha ha. I actually haven’t even met him yet. We were just talking and he asked for a picture. I’ve never done that before and thought what the hell. And then immediately fucked it up.”

Tamlin was way too sweet and sincere for the guys on Grindr. Thinking fast, Rhysand searched for and downloaded a photo of the Washington Monument. Before he could let Tamlin stew in his self pity for too long, he sent:

”We’ve all fucked up. I’ll send you a pic too, so we’re even.”

He attached the downloaded photo, only thinking to question the joke after he had sent it. It was familiar, bordering on flirtatious. The kind of thing he’d usually only send to Azriel or Cassian. His phone pinged.

”No wonder your ego is huge.”

Another text came in, this time a photo of a male mallard with the title “duck pic.” Rhysand actually laughed. He shot back something about the head of the duck being bright green, and maybe he should get that looked at. Tamlin coyly asked if he knew any good doctors. Holy shit, was Tamlin hitting on him? He knew that Rhysand was a doctor; more accurately a surgeon, working in his father’s clinic.

Rhysand found himself draped over the couch, texting with Tamlin for over an hour. The mortifying start to their conversation seemed to loosen something in him. He was funnier and more charming than Rhysand had ever seen. It felt special, to have Tamlin be so open with him. The thought of Tamlin being like this with “random guy from Grindr who’s name begins with R” filled Rhysand with a seething hot emotion that he eventually identified as jealousy.

When the conversation seemed like it was drifting to an end, Rhysand made his move. He selected one of his own pictures from a hidden folder on his phone (yes he had his own dick pics saved for occasions like this) and sent it. He waited a few seconds, then wrote:

”If you want to keep going, give me a call.”

The urge to throw his phone across the room overwhelmed him. He resorted to putting it face down on the coffee table and staring pointedly at the ceiling. The next minute was the longest of his life. But then, like a miracle, his phone began to ring.

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

One month later

“You owe me a thank you drink.”

“What did you do now?” Tamlin asked, only giving half of his attention to the giant man sitting on the floor. His roommate was supposed to be helping him set up, which mostly just involved finding a stool for Tamlin to sit on. Mission accomplished, Andras sat back on his hands, watching as Tamlin fiddled with his guitar. The coffee shop was almost empty, but it would start to fill up as Tamlin’s set started. He was a regular here.

“Don’t try that innocent act on me, I know all your secrets.” Andras pointed an accusing finger. “You found a hookup on Grindr. You’re welcome.”

“What? No I didn’t.”

“Yes you did. I know all the signs. Lucien and I barely see you anymore, you haven’t brooded in weeks, and I found this in your backpack.” For his final exhibit, Andras brandished a small foil packet that revealed itself to be a condom when he stopped shaking it around.

“Stop that!” Blushing, Tamlin snatched the condom out of Andras’s hand. “Why were you going through my backpack anyway?”

“Don’t change the subject. Who is it? That guy with the blue hair? What was his name, Ryan?”

“What are you guys talking about?” Tamlin’s second roommate, Lucien, asked, appearing as if summoned by an omniscient being that wanted to ruin Tamlin’s life.

“Tamlin’s new boy toy,” Andras answered before Tamlin could.

“Ooooooh. Is it that guy with the septum piercing? Rowan?”

Tamlin was about to tell them that he was moving out and they were never allowed to talk to him again when his gaze caught a familiar dark-haired figure swagger into the coffee shop. His heart stuttered, his breath caught in his throat. Rhys sat down at a table near his little stage, leaning back in the seat. He saw Tamlin staring and grinned, waggling his fingers obnoxiously in greeting.

Of course, Rhys had known where he was going. Tamlin had come here straight from Rhys’s apartment, having barely escaped from the lean arms that had grabbed at him, inviting him back into the comforting warmth of Rhys’s bed. Tamlin just hadn’t thought that Rhys would actually show up.

Too late, he remembered that he was in public, being scrutinized by the two people who knew him better than they knew themselves. He watched in horror as Andras and Lucien looked back and forth between Tamlin and Rhysand. Recognition dawned on their faces. At the same time, they said,

“No fucking way.”

[bloodycyrano]

I am extremely mentally fucked right now, so let's see how team tadpole handles their depressive episodes! TW, this will probably be super depressing to read.

Astarion: He thinks he hides it really well, and for the most part, he does. But his motivation for easy, everyday tasks and self care goes absolutely down the drain. You've seen the inside of his tent, you know how it goes. He tries to keep up the image of doing well, keep the smile, keep the jokes coming. He's terrified of people finding out what's underneath, and in hiding it, he feels like he has the upper hand. He doesn't, and he needs therapy. I'd also put money on him hypersexualizing himself for the validation and to feel like he was worth something. After all, Cazador beat it into him that that was all he was good for. Luring in pray with his body. - We also know that Astarion has nightmares, but I'd like to add to this with the reminder that Elves don't sleep. They trance. In the trance, they go over the memories of their past. It's how they keep up with such long lives and how they stay close to past lives as children (For those who dont know, elves don't measure age in maturity, but rather by distance to their past lives- Once an elf can no longer recall memories from their past life, they are considered an adult. They pick their adult name in celebration of the new person and consciousness that they now are). The fact that Astarion can remember nothing of his life prior to being turned by Cazador, nothing of his family, etc., Means that he is so deeply affected by Cazador that those memories are the only things he can see when he goes to rest at night. Every night, in perfect detail, he has to remember all of his worst trauma.

Karlach: Karlach is the sunshine character. She's sweet, and loud and bright with the biggest smile, but you also have to remember that she was a soldier. She was sold off to a literal demon and used as a science experiment essentially for the hell of it. She's not going to open up about what she's feeling immediately, and she's not going to seek help, either. She thinks she has to deal with it quietly and on her own, because since her parents died; that's what she's always had to do. Chin up, no tears, keep fighting. It's going to stress her out to the point where she starts smoking again, but she'll try to hide it or brush it off. Most importantly, she's going to be more focussed on not burdening those around her and trying to take care of you guys and protect you at the expense of her own mental health and physical safety. But her sorrows are noticeable. She can try to hide it, but everyone in camp knows. Everyone in camp is worried. Everyone can see when her eyes stop glimmering, when she stops dancing around in her tent when she can't sleep, when her bright laughter stops, and when she gets quiet. So quiet. She zones out, like she's in another realm entirely. She probably also has post traumatic stress from her time as a soldier, and it's going to weigh on her heavily in battle. Maybe she'll freeze up, have flashbacks, even potentially have small hallucinations now and again. It's going to take a lot of care and reassurance to get her to talk to you about it, but when she finally does, she'll probably have a complete meltdown with all the feelings she's been keeping inside.

Wyll: Wyll self isolates. He gets much quieter, and he probably isn't going to be too open to talking about it unless he's really close to you. He gets a little cold when talking to people, but he's good at resolving things in his head and the most likely to rationalize his feelings to make himself feel better. He also probably writes poetry, or even paints his feelings as a form of expressing his sorrows because he understands he needs some outlet so he isn't bottling everything up. He has the heart of an artist, and this is a hill I am prepared to die on.

Gale: He has a hard time talking when he's sad, and probably has difficulty making eye contact as well. He'd probably be more inclined to seek out comfort and vent than the rest of team tadpole, but that doesn't take away from the complexity of his emotions. He's angry, and sad, and feels so so shitty just about being who he is in general. He's fallen so far from where he once was, and for what? He'll do is best to rationalize, but his anxiety is going to push into paranoia, and rationalizing is going to turn into self loathing. He's going to try his best to be more useful, and show off, and earn the validation he craves because without that, what is he? He was a prodigy child. He used to be so, so great. Even the goddess of magic herself thought so. Now he's rotting away in a camp full of strangers and trying to re-learn level one spells. It's taking a toll on him, and it's noticeable to anyone willing to look.

Shadowheart: She's trying to pray. The goddess she has been devoted to all her life is the lady of loss. There is a great amount of sorrow in the way she worships, and in her suffering, she finds faith. She tells herself it's her next step to becoming a dark justiciar. Delving further into her faith and trusting in the dark depths of her soul, and her pain. All it ever truly does is make her hurt, though.

Lae'zel: Lae’zel is truly a specimen built on stoicism. If you ask her what's wrong, she will tell you but it will also be in such a way that you wonder if she's really processing all of her pain. The thing is, she's thinking about it. She has the emotional intelligence to understand the way she's feeling and how to fix it, but for some reason unknown to her, she can't. And that's what's going to stress her out and hurt her the most. She knows what theoretically should fix the pain, but it's not working the way that it should. She's going to wonder if it's something wrong with her, or the way she's going about it. She might get angry with other people more often, and try to project blame onto someone so that maybe she can find a way to resolve the way that it hurts. But she can't. She'll keep throwing temporary solutions and misplaced anger into the void until she finds something to distract from it. And maybe, after a lot of contemplation and positive outside help from the rest of team tadpole, she may find peace.

[rottenpumpkin13]

Can we have some more Jenova and Lucretia Yuri?

I felt inspired and needed to put this into an actual scene. Forgive any mistakes please, I didn't edit this aalskshsgskd

-

Lucrecia stood in front of her mirror, practically bare before her own reflection with only a sheer chemise covering her body. She traced her finger over her stomach, visible lines of concern etched on her face.

She was only in her first trimester, and yet, she was overthinking things already. A mixture of guilt and regret already began to sink its teeth into her peace of mind.

She could feel a small, minuscule bump already, a swollen spot that had not been there before. While she was assured that her stomach would only behind to show during her second trimester, this pregnancy was different.

"Fear not. Your body will change, but the discomfort only lasts nine months."

There was that insufferable voice again. Lucrecia rolled her eyes, letting her hand slip from her stomach as she turned toward the bathroom.

"You know full well it's not my body I'm worried about."

The voice hummed. "Is it the baby? Do not worry. I'm keeping our child safe."

Lucrecia snatched her toothbrush from the edge of the sink, glancing up at the mirror with a mix of fear and disdain. Sure enough, she was there again.

Jenova looked her most innocent when she was a hallucination. Her long, silver hair cascaded over one shoulder as she leaned against the doorway, an absolutely wretched smile playing on her lips as she balanced herself on one leg. She wore a chemise that was clearly meant to match Lucrecia's.

Lucrecia tried her best to ignore her, reaching for the toothpaste next. "It won't be your child."

Jenova arched a singular eyebrow. "Of course it will. My son, that is. You are having a boy."

Lucrecia spat out the toothpaste, gagging.

Jenova watched Lucrecia wash her mouth. "It's my first time being a parent too. I'm going to be a mother. Is that not an important title?" She laughed.

When Lucrecia quickly spun around, the apparition was no longer there. She groaned, punching the light switch before making her way back into her room.

But as she entered, she felt her muscles stiffen again as she became paralyzed in place. Her hallucination of Jenova was there, laying casually in her bed, staring up at the ceiling.

"You humans have a custom where you name your offspring." Jenova lifted her leg in the air, tracing circles with her foot. It was an image so innocent that one would've really mistaken her for a young woman. "So what shall we name him? Would you like to go over suggestions? I admit I'm not the most knowledgeable about human names. The Cetra had suitable ones though, from the time I—"

"We are going to do nothing," Lucrecia snapped as she stepped towards the bed. "You're going to go back inside my head where you belong. It isn't good for either of us if you keep showing up like you're....like you're...."

"Real?" Jenova suggested, letting her leg drop.

She smiled softly, in a way that made Lucrecia certain that the creature could read her every thought and decipher emotions that even she was unaware of. It was unsettling.

"I am real," Jenova said. "I am so real, in fact, that I could have impregnated you myself."

Lucrecia shook a chill that made her skin goose-flecked. Great. She was definitely blushing now.

"If only your pathetic excuse of a husband had known to inject you with my cells only and let me do the rest of the work." She hummed pensively, eying Lucrecia up in a way that made the scientist feel utterly naked.

"I've never done it before, of course. But I'm sure it would've been even more pleasurable than the way you humans copulate."

"Are you done?" Lucrecia folded her arms over her chest.

"No." Jenova rolled over on her side, bracing her head on her hand. "Where is your husband? Don't tell me you sleep in different rooms."

Lucrecia sighed, choosing not to respond. "Can we just—" She walked towards the bed, shooing Jenova to the other side, "—go to sleep? Please? If you're going to stay here, at least be quiet. I have work tomorrow."

Jenova's apparition shrugged, burrowing herself under the covers. "My kind does not require sleep to function."

Lucrecia shot her an incredulous look. "Ever?"

"We can choose to sleep, but it's purely a recreational activity."

Lucrecia did her best to push down the desire to prod Jenova more about her race. It was the researcher side of her that formulated a dozen questions she could ask, and it was the rational human side of her that shot down each one before they could reach her tongue.

"Then have fun with that recreational activity and go to sleep." Lucrecia reached over, turning off her lamp.

Jenova hummed. "Is that what you want of me?"

Lucrecia ignored the details that had her senses screaming at her—the weight of the second body vibrating on the bed next to her and Jenova's somehow sweet scent.

She groaned. "Yes."

There was a pause.

"Then I will do it," Jenova said. "For you."

[survivalist-anon]

Log 3: A new breed of man

8:30 am, waking up from another sleepless night. I prepared my usual breakfast of coffee and eggs. After my week leave, it was about time to comeback to the office....or at least what I consider my office. I work at an wildlife rehabilitation center and reserve, since my wonderful history education career didn't pan out in the I hoped it would....I guess I had to fall back on my previous passion...nature, animals and staying as far away from people as I could be allowed to.

I was just about to enjoy the last bite of my eggs until my phone rang. I could see it was my boss, James (head researcher, local forest ranger for the county, and my ever patient boss.).

I pick it up and answer, "Hey James, I'm heading there as soon as I can ".

"Ah no worries, take your time. I just want to phone in a favor of yah, I need you to head to Mr.Bellcaller's hardware store and pick a few fencing equipment and some other gunbins. I texted you the list just in case. You're up for it?"

Since I come in at least an hour later than everyone else at the center, I'm usually the errand girl before my shift begins...it's nothing really, I actually like to help out if I can. The center's fundings have been cut by the town recently, so any amount of help...well...helps.

"You know it, I should be there in a bit. I'll see you later, sir."

Gives his usual chuckle on the other, "that's my girl. You're going to be on light duty for the week, hope you don't mind making the feed and filing paperwork."

Letting out a releaved sigh, I usually hate those duties but this week I sort of want to lay low. "Thanks James, see you later.", I hang up, pack up my work gear.

A half an hour later I'm at the hardware store. Mr and Mrs Bellcaller were one of the last members of one of the founding families here in Pine Hills. They have the town's utmost respect and most of us consider them the town's designated Grandparents. Their grandkids were around but most of their family lives in Portland.

As I'm looking at the list, it's all fencing material, repair equipment and a few tools. "oh boy...well at least it's not that much." As I get the tools, leaving the larger purchases for last, I hear the door bell ringing as another customer comes in.

"Oh good morning. Welcome back to Bellcaller's Tool Shop, how can we help you today?", Mrs.Bellcaller warmly greets them.

A low, stern and curt tone gently bellowed within earshot, "Greetings, I again require the following building necessities. If your business provides them. It would be greatly appreciated by me and my brothers.", if concrete had a voice....I just heard it.

I head up to the counter and what I find can only be described in one phrase. That is one HUGE man.

An extremely tall, double....no....tripled built man, his muscles taking a space that was only matched by his aura, whom already looked visibly constraint from the claustrophobic space he was in was being attended by Mrs.Bellcaller.

"Oh goodness, well thank you young man. I would also very much appreciate helping you.", she didn't seem mind this guy's absolutely strangeness, couldn't she see that this guy was easily 7 or 8 feet tall. He was dressed up in work casual construction clothes. This man was a monument in a hard hat.

I could barely comprehend what I was looking at... until his smell hit my nostrils. It was a harsh, musk, this guy was what a buffalo was to a regular dairy cow. That wasn't even the strangest part, his stench was doing things to me I'm too embarrassed to elaborate on....I haven't felt this crazy level of sexual high in my life. As I looked at one of the other patrons too see if I wasn't hallucinating what I was feeling, I saw one of the wives of the local farmers here picking up an order. I've never seen another woman so publicly hot and bothered, she couldn't stop looking at him. I'd be worried if I was her husband.

As for me, I was huffing, my heart pounding, I actually thought I was having a panic attack....no...this was so primal I was visibly embarrassed. I couldn't look away from him. Tall, the apex of masculinity, he literally was everything anyone would want out of a man... well physically so to speak.

But he was lazor focused. He didn't look around, he didn't even acknowledge anyone around him. His gaze was harsh, yet...it wasn't scary. It's the same look most men in the military give.

As for Mrs.Bellcaller, I could barely imagine what she's feeling.

She comes back out with a sizable box of industrial nuts and bolts, a few hammers and a farming drill used for drilling holes in much harder clay deposits.

"Oh and the concrete mix is just out in the back, Jack is loading up for you as we speak deary.", she casually notified him.

The man's expression had not changed, but his toned softened at the unexpected help, "Please pardon my ill-kept manners, madame. I shall assist your husband.", he placed a small bag in front of her. She simply takes the bag and places it under the counter for later. "Thank you, your business has been most essential to our cause."

"Oh thank you sweetheart, have a blessed day.", as she waved to him, the man released his 'parade rest' position and robotically walk out the door, carefully trying not to hit the doorway.

It felt like forever, a just a still silence, with the hefty sent of literal manhood still lingering in the store.

"God Dang it, finally that brick shit house has left the building. Smelling like a bull in its worst rut possible, do folks don't know how to shower anymore?! Come on Bridgette!", the man leaves with his wife in tow, probably feeling as emasculated as possible looking at the guy.

"~oh my lord!", it's clear she got it a lot worse since she was across the aisle from him.

I sheepishly walked to the counter, my head was starting to slowly clear. "...ugh...wow...ugh...oh..yeah..um...d-do you have this fencing stuff Mrs Bellcaller?"

How was she so damn calm? She isn't even breaking a sweat....

"Oh hellow Lorey, how are you doin love? Are you doing better? I was mortified when I heard what had happened to Micheal, my dearest condolences.", she gave me a concerned look. She was the closest thing to a real grandmother I could ever ask for.

"Oh, I'm doing better, thank you for asking...also..ugh is it hot in here or something?", I just needed to make sure I wasn't just losing composer because of my hormones.

She giggled a little, "Oh no, but don't worry sweetheart I don't blame you. That gentleman has been coming her for three years now. Handsome fella too! I just love seeing how the men here get all riled up when he and his brothers from that work come over for supplies."

"b-brothers?", I ask.

"oh yes! All just as tall as him.", as she finished her statement Mr.Bellcaller came from the back.

"ooowee. If ain't for Bill paying for all the equipment he buys we'd be out of business by now Margaret. Fine boy too. Just wondering why is he so high strung. Worse than the soldiers up at Tillamook.", he wiped his forehead of his sweat.

"Bill?", I ask again.

"Oh hey Lorey, yep. His name's Bill. Bill Dorn, must be German or something. Anyways, I see yeah need new fencing? Hmm, hopefully we'll be getting some better quality stuff soon. Folks around here have been investing more and more in home protection.", he gave a short jolly smile.

"ah, I can imagine. Again thanks for the help."

After a few minutes of loading the rest of the equipment, I waved goodbye to the Bellcaller's and headed to work. The lingering.... inappropriate thoughts...still putting in a mood I hadn't felt in months.

I arrived at work around 9 or so. With equipment in tow.

"Well well well, if it ain't 'Bear Grills' herself, how's it going!", Jonas, a coworker of mine greeted me with her usual energy. "I heard yah almost bit the dust, what happened?", it was less out of genuine concern and more out of morbid curiosity.

I let out another, exhausted sigh, "it was a big...metal man... with spikes all over his body...I shot an arrow at him...and....boom...'sloded. I have no idea what else happened or why it did.", the story had become shorter and shorter every time I tell it.

"ah what! That's so cool! Is it true that it killed yo-", James walks in hearing a potential fight happened, "That's enough Jonas! Ah there you are Lorey, thanks for stopping by Bellcaller's. Any news from town?", James was always quick to stop any infighting amongst the staff.

"yeah ugh....do any of you know a guy named Bill Dorn?", I see only one person in the office who could have any information on him.

"Oh I know Dorn and his 'brothers'", it was Jeff....

".....what the hell is he doing here?", I already was geared up by Jonas, I didn't need Jeff making it worse for me either.

James unfortunately was reluctant to answer, "Ah yes, Deputy Jeff-"

" Sheriff Deputy Jeff. I have to use the official title now. As per agency policy.", interrupting James.

".... Sheriff Deputy Jeff Colt wanted to stop by as check on you, that's all." By this point, I only knew center had my back because everyone at the wildlife center has had a run in with local PD, most of which resulted in arrests.

"Yes, and I insist on making sure you're safe. Look I understand our past hasn't been the most peachest. But, I still love you.", the sugar in that confession was enough to kill an elephant.

"anyways, I wouldn't go near that...freak. Damn near crushed my hand when we shook. Almost was tempted in slapping him with an "assault of an officer charge". That big lug just stared at me like he nothing going on inside that skull of his. I say he's no good. Probably just some city-slicker.", he crossed his arms thinking his statements had any weight.

No one in the room gave a shit about Jeff's statement, especially me. Jeffrey Colt has been part of the force for a little over a year and he's become a completely different person. He's gain a lot of weight, he's been over bearing with his duties and has already ruined his reputation as the Pine Hills Highschool football champion because of it.

"If you did, you would have cared about a little more enough not to cheat on me.", I did not care anymore on keeping that part a secret, at the same time no one truly knew the real reason why I broke up with him. We both agreed no to say what it was.

The frustration on his face was visible but even knew what I was doing. "hmf, well. I still care enough to make sure you ain't getting yourself hurt, good day. I've got more important duties to attend to." He leaves in a huff.

James, Jonas and several other volunteers look back at me worried. I look at all of their faces, I clear my throat and redo my ponytail that had gotten a little loose on the way to work.

"I'm fine.... everything is fine. He's just being an idiot.", I grab some of the center's paperwork and head to the filing office.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, 30 miles north of Pine Hills:

As the long expansive road stretches on for another few miles, the cramped conditions of the truck begin to finally bother Bill.

"hhhhhhhggggggg", he gently turns on the already broken knob of the truck radio.

"Reports of Mystery Armored Entities continue to rise as the spring season begins. Residence within the Albany county, Portland City limits and even reports as far east of the nation in Utah, Chicago, Michigan, Virginia, Georgia and Florida have be reporting these strange and potentially dang-", Bill changes the station, "You're listening to 106.8 Country F.M, where easy listening goes out West!", as a soft country song starts playing, it eases Bill's mind, helping him focus on his mission back home.

Sternly, he looks ahead of him, turns left off road, heading down a tired trail ment for military personnel long decommissioned.

After the bumpy trail ends, he arrives at a make shift metal wall, guarded by one of the metal men. Wearing striking yellow armor, with an insignia of a black fist held proudly up on his left shoulder.

"Hault, Password!", he shouted.

Bill just dryly rolled his window down and stared at the armored individual. "We need bigger vehicles."

"Password Accepted!", the armored man humored his clearly disgruntled brother, "welcome home Bilhard."

Bilhard, waved, thanking his brother. Driving another five minutes, he arrives at a construction site, one that had been painstakingly built in secret for several decades, as expansion for the sit now extends for an unknown amount of feet underground.

"hm, time to continue the Emperor's good work.", gets out of his cramped truck, stretching his arms out.

End of log 3

@kit-williams

[cerealboxlore]

very small idea but for billy who thinks ebenezer killed mary what if as captain marvel he saw mary for a split second while doing something with the league and wasn’t able to check it out but he knows he saw her

i can’t really put together my thoughts in this properly right now but yeah i think that ought to be fun (not for billy)

Oh!

Oh we are going to haveso much FUN with this, my friend!

(TW: slight mind fuckery and mentions of corpses)

I absolutely go feral at Billy Batson angst, even more so when it involves him being Captain Marvel and letting his mortal emotions slip through is magical adult front. The aching and deep sadness that he tries desperately to hide is impossible to unsee, and it concerns his teammates if/when they see it appear on his face. The JL know Captain Marvel as a super happy, fun, immature and yet mysterious man, they're accustomed to seeing Captain Marvel smiling with a bright grin most of the time. That boy scout attitude of his is a trademark and one they never imagined seeing fade, an impossibility.

They should have known by now that impossibilities were more than possible nowadays. Especially when magic was involved.

What I'm thinking is, and maybe something I'll include in a longer post one day, is a team up between the Scarecrow and Mr. Mind. I did a poll before and y'all said this would mentally scar Billy the most, and I fully believe in the psychological horror potential of them. In the event that they team up, Mr. Mind would want Captain Marvel taken down first, as he's a risk and threat to Mr. Mind's plans the most. He knows who he is. He knows that Captain Marvel is secretly Billy Batson, homeless orphan who is desperately running away from his abusive past that haunts him.

I'm thinking that if Mr. Mind somehow finds a way to infect Billy with a magically enchanted fear toxin that slowly chips away at his sanity through a period of time, he could take advantage of his mind and therefore control the Champion of magic completely without any worry of losing control.

This could factor into your idea about Billy catching a glimpse of Mary while he's out as Captain Marvel with the league. The first time it'd just a passing glimpse. A blink. It's Mary's face in the reflection of a glass mirror he flies past by. He shakes it off, thinking it's just nothing. Then it happens again, but this time Mary's face in the mirror shows signs of rotting. The next time it happens it's not in a mirror, but on the street while he's helping citizens flee the scene of a fight, and he thinks he sees Mary running past him.

Was it actually her this time? Or was it his mind playing tricks on him? Was he going crazy? No, no that's impossible. As Captain Marvel he couldn't go crazy, right? Then...Was something wrong with Billy? If his foundation/vessel had something wrong, then functioning as Captain Marvel was going to get a lot harder for him.

The thoughts about his (supposed) dead sister haunt him more frequently, to the point where he can't go a single day without mistaking someone as the beaten and decaying form of Mary. He feels himself losing his mind, losing control of his fears and self, enough to the point that Mr. Mind can easily swoop in and take control of the Champion of Magic. A really fun plot to have a mind controlled Captain Marvel fight the Justice League, even more so if he's not the only one experiencing this.

Maybe after this fight the JL has a talk with Captain Marvel and in his emotional exhaustion that he's recovering from, he speaks about Mary at last and how he's been hallucinating her all this time, but still unsure if she's actually dead. CM finally opening up about his personal life and the guilt he feels for not helping his sister back then as a little kid. Whether or not they find out Captain Marvel is really just a kid falls onto you, I'm still trying to figure out how the Scarecrow would have a bigger part in this. Maybe Mr. Mind is mind controlling him, too??

[spookymonthcultau]

Deserted evening street. Outskirts. Only the faint sound of tires rubbing against the pavement is heard. Gradually dim lights come on. The trees around stood without a single leaf, from which they could only sway terribly in a gust of wind. It was already pretty cold around, from the fact that one of the policemen kept sneezing, from which a cigarette flew out of his mouth. The ashtray was overflowing with cigarette butts, which were smeared with dirt left on the floor of the car from boots.

As John reached for another cigarette, sniffling. Suddenly, his partner's voice stopped him.

Jack was worried about his condition, and therefore did not want him to continue to adversely affect his health and his pocket, because with the frequency that the policeman sneezed, this smoking was equivalent to throwing a whole pack of "cancer sticks" into the trash.

John, how is your daughter? - the brunette began a dialogue on a completely side topic, which would surely have distracted the older comrade from his miserable attempts to enjoy tobacco.

This theme is the best catalyst. The hand that once reached for the cigarette changed course to the button to close the window, then to give its answer:

- Thank you for asking. My girl feels great, she recently discovered her passion for drawing.

- Wow! Is it true? Sounds great! Tell her she already has her first suitor! Jack jokes kindly.

John gave him the same grin.

- I'll be sure to tell her. How about your personal life?

- My psychologist told me not to rush into this, because I can unconsciously start copying my father's behavior, since it is still considered normal for me in all respects. However, I myself do not have a special craving for either women or men. I'm only 25, I still have time, right?

- And that's right, you're still young, it's true, you'll have more time.

- You speak as if you are already all 80. - the brunette smiles again.

- I could be your father! Albeit very young.

- It would be better if it was. - The grin of the policeman this time was completely without mischief, rather with a taste of bitter truth.

The truth is that Jack's father was indeed not the most pleasant man, if only because children do not run away from good parents.

An awkward silence hung, which this time, unpleasantly pressed from above with a heavy load. With a heavy sigh, John leaned back in his seat, watching the focused partner behind the wheel.

The tired gaze of the mustachioed man, gliding over the windshield, suddenly stopped at the mansion, which stood alone, but majestically, at the top of the hill.

Looking at the building, which slowly but surely eluded their gaze, the curly one asks:

- Jack, do you believe the cult is real?

- I believe. And not even because, according to my father, since there is a church, then there are those who are against it.

This answer was quite unexpected, so John clarified:

-Then why do you believe it's real?

Jack's hands clenched on the steering wheel and he visibly hesitated.

– Many suspicious factors led me to this conclusion, up to the discovery of cult symbols in buildings or in the home of innocent citizens. I swear to...ahem, by all I have, I saw a cult robe in the attic of the woman whose house we were trying to find Bob Welseb. You know, the cult is like Sauron watching you everywhere and everywhere.

Judging by his partner's mixed reaction, these minor details obviously weren't the only reason for his faith.

But John could not even open his mouth, when suddenly a man in a red hoodie appeared almost in front of the hood, from which the car rushed to turn with a painful creak, from which a sharp shift in weight led to the fact that the car turned over and slowly slid down the ravine, with the sound of broken glass braking against a tree.

The man that appeared in front of them seemed to be nothing more than a joint hallucination, for no help followed from him, but now it was absolutely unimportant.

Of the last forces, John managed to miraculously get out of the battered car, which was about to be ready to ignite, pulling Jack's body along with it, which did not seem to save and the airbag popping a little further, the curly one presses the wounded partner to himself, and despite the fact that it felt like the whole body was broken, he croaked:

- Jack, my boy, please hold on, I'll call for help now ...

All he got was a hard, bloody cough that left a stain on his shirt.

Jack barely finds the strength to lift his bruised head, which was bleeding profusely.

Judging by the unnatural dislocation of the arm and convulsions, the brunette was literally completely broken and he didn’t have much to live.

Incoherent, at first glance, speeches were barely audible from his mouth, mixed with blood.

- John... that woman... a cult... this will help... you... you can... thank you... you... my best friend...

The black, deep eyes that had always shone with a spark of happiness and enthusiasm faded forever, and the lips briefly curled into a death smile before the whole body went limp lifelessly on the cold grass.

The rush of adrenaline didn't seem to play a big role in driving John into a tantrum.

He see a picture of a burning house, the screeching of sirens, the crying of a child, the words that his wife could not be saved ... Again.

But to see how your dear partner dies in your arms is even more painful. And the heart will squeeze even more from the fact that you could not do anything to help.

Choking on tears and clutching the dead body to himself, he takes the phone out of his pocket and barely hitting the number of the pathologist who was on the speed dial, he gasps into the receiver:

- O-outskirts of g-g-city ... urgently ... ambulance ...

There was no answer to the worried exclamations of the woman from the tube. John lost consciousness.

Instrument chirp.

Preparations.

And recovery.

Pain of loss.

Farewell hour.

And then humility.

We will not return the departed,

We won't fix it.

It remains only to collect

Our boots are dust.

Although this verse is by no means eloquent or verbose, it perfectly describes the state of John after the car accident.

He did not remember well how the doctors stood over him, injecting medicines and putting droppers.

He had little memory of crying at Jack's funeral while squeezing Patty's hand.

But he probably remembered that the cigarettes in his teeth began to flicker even more often, in an attempt to drown out the pain, which, like that accident, broke him from the inside, not only literally.

The state of health deteriorated markedly. Everything around in an instant became gray, lifeless, empty.

It seemed that an integral part of his life had gone with Jack, that it would be restored very, very slowly, and in front of his beloved daughter it was becoming increasingly difficult for him to pretend that everything was fine.

Late evening. It's getting colder outside. Trees and grass are covered with frost. As if anticipating the arrival of something cold and lifeless. Previously, such associations with winter did not arise, but joy

Sniffing, the curly-haired cop takes another puff, frowning around, suddenly freezing.

It was at this house that she and Jack got their first lead on Bob's trail. Now even this makes the heart bleed with warm blood

Suddenly John flinches. The partner's words popped into his head, along with an image of who Jack had actually sacrificed himself for.

The spark of life flashed again in tired eyes. He always has a police ID, as well as a weapon, so you don't have to worry about being mistaken for a psycho. He didn't have a clear plan, but if the one who lives here is really connected to a cult...

Oh, she will pay for everything.

Three heavy knocks on the door. Then, a dull voice was heard:

- Officer John, Miss. Open the door, I need to talk to you...

[1-million-interests]

My Favourite Book of the 2023 - CHOUETTE

Chouette (2021 - also French for 'owl') by Claire Oshetsky is one of the best books I have ever read. Any one who knows me knows that I am a fan of all things 'female-rage', particularly anything involving women embracing their primality through paralleling their lives with animals (shoutout to my favourite book of 2022; Nightbitch). Not only that, but I am a sucker for fantasy-realism. There is truly nothing better than reading a book where nothing is certain and reality is a dream-like blur and thinking "ok... what the fuck is going on". This thought completely encompasses my entire journey through Chouette.

The plot follows a woman named Tiny, who after having a dream in which she is making love to a female owl, finds herself pregnant. Upon giving birth to this half owl half human baby we learn that it has sever physical and psychological defects, with its appearance and behaviour resembling that of an owl. While Tiny loves and embraces her owlet, her husband, who Tiny refers to as a "dog-person", only sees it as a problem that needs to be fixed, attempting to strip it of all bird-like qualities so that it may join him and his pack of dog-family. Now you can see why I had no clue what the fuck was going on.

While my recounting of the plot may seem absurd and confusing and too complicated to bother reading, I assure you that this is where most of the joy from reading the text comes from. What starts as merely a stream of consciousness spiel that serves to create the world of the text as it exists in reality slowly turns into a whirlwind of dreams and hallucinations and paranormal experiences and synesthesia that leaves the reader having to determine for themselves what is "real" and what is only occurring in Tiny's mind. The absolute peak of this, for me, would be when Tiny gives birth to Chouette and her birth defects are described, both through the way Tiny sees and describes her, and how the adults in the text (Tiny's husband, in-laws, day-care owners, etc.) react to her appearance and behaviour. What Tiny describes as a beak, her husband describes as the absence of a nose, and when Chouette screeches, her father only hears a scream. Trying to create a complete image of Chouette in your mind is such a difficult, horrifying, and thrilling task, and this book will have you trying to wrap your head around reality as it exists to Tiny's husband until you just give up and embrace Tiny's reality (because honestly, it's much more fun).

One of the most spectacular aspects of the book for me is Tiny's connection to music. Tiny herself is a concert cellist and slowly begins to love her career and love of the instrument after giving birth to Chouette. Frequently throughout the novel Oshetsky references classical symphonies that are familiar to Tiny (while also having an index of all the music mentioned in chronological order at the beginning of the book in case the reader wants to listen along) as music she has either played or enjoyed. This music always relates to Tiny's present state of mind or the situation around her. Personally, I love when authors relate the female experience to the art they create (which can also be seen in my favourite book in the whole world; Cat's Eye) and how it becomes an extension of their subconscious desires. You'll have to read the book to fully understand how Oshetsky uses it because it truly is captivating.

One criticism I have of Chouette is its characterisation of Tiny. While she is our narrator and one of the few characters in the book with a name, her behaviour is still quite 2-dimensional. If you read the book you'll get what I mean. It seems that at times she is annoyingly submissive, allowing everyone to call her Tiny (which might not even be her real name!) and poke fun at how she's just this sensitive little woman who's going through a bit of post-partum stress and is really nothing to worry about why she couldn't even hurt a fly! However, instead of feeling empowered by her second-hand primality that she receives from her owl-baby and the maternal strength and love she feels she continues to remain painfully submissive, even when her husband attempts to covert her bird into a dog. There were honestly so many moments in this text where I felt like picking up Tiny by her shoulders, giving her a hard shake, and telling her to man the fuck up. For a book that centers entirely around Tiny's descent into delusion, desire, depression and anger, there really should be a point where she breaks out of this stereotypically gentle female role, takes charge, and protects her baby, no matter the cost.

In conclusion, if you are a fan of feminism and magical realism then this is the book for you. The blended parallel between women and animals is such a unique and intriguing approach to feminism and female rage as it touches on the darker sides of the female experience that audiences and authors tend to stay away from. This harsh and subversive take on maternal love, the female experience, and the feminine response and connection to nature and animals is a riveting read and absolutely wins the title of my favourite book of the year.

I can't wait to find my woman gone feral book of 2024.

[shiut]

I love the additional context of the DLC! I somehow didn't even consider the fact that the hitman who was (strongly implied) to have been the one who was part of the murder of Yakou's wife also being involved with the murder of all the detectives that were being sent to Yakou's agency would add to the pile of motivation for chapter 4.

Though, considering that Mr. Yakou "Let's pretend like we didn't hear a thing" Furio didn't want to do anything until the first call from 'Number One' backed him into a corner, his real conviction could've come a bit later. But, maybe you're right that talking to Vivia was the beginning of him finding bit of hope in the fact that he had other detectives there to support him, and it was the fact that he was directly contacted by Number One, the one person he wanted to keep their nose out of it (joke's on him), that scared him the most.

The implication that the reason Yakou adopted Vivia's saying on the rooftop to connect it back to the fact that Yakou already knew too much, the same as Vivia did in chapter 4's case, is really good. No wonder they share a chapter and DLC. This fits with the fact that chapter 4 is clearly a reference to a certain mystery novel where, long story short, one of the themes is that if people know too much, then it ultimately leads to inaction (this is a whole subject for another post). You made me think about the fact that Yakou basically accomplished nothing by thinking that doing nothing was the answer, but the moment he found the conviction to take action he ended up accomplishing many different things that were previously unresolved, and even if it didn't work out it was still better than nothing.

Yakou's wife is incredibly interesting, if not essential for adding context to a bunch of things within the game. I have a hard time wrapping my head around what she's meant to be at the end of his DLC... the most logical thought is that she's a hallucination, but also ghosts are actually real in this world....

I think the line "I knew this day would come, thank goodness for my research." is one of the reasons why I assumed that she might've anticipated that the medicine could be used to help zombie homunculi, because the only context to the 'this day' that I can think of is the context of her talking to the zombie Yakou that's in front of her. Or maybe she's a hallucination saying what Yakou's brain thinks she would say if she was in front of him in that moment?

When she says that she could leave a sample behind, I think I assumed that he's hallucinating a memory of when she left him with the badge and the pill, and so he's had this the whole time while knowing the purpose of the pill because she told him what it could do back when she gave it to him. Or maybe I'm wrong about that and he found the badge in the abandoned lab and his hallucination is manifesting itself as his wife telling him what it's used for? But wait, how would his hallucination tell him information that he didn't already know? If it's her ghost explaining what the medicine can do, then what does she mean "I always knew this day would come"?

She's an enigma that's making me think in circles. Maybe the unclearness of these kind of supernatural elements is an appeal to me though. :P

And I absolutely think that Zilch died while meeting back up with Yomi and was having a conversation about going to the lab. I'd imagine that his advisor dropping dead right in front of him should be an effective omen that Yomi should be very, very worried about the things to come from that moment on.

(Bless a fellow Yakou enjoyer adding on to the post for me. I had written the draft for the original analysis around the time I had only played the Desuhiko DLC but not the rest of them. I craved to see more depth to him that the base game didn't give him enough of, and all the DLCs really did add so much onto his character that I was happy to see. I just decided not to include a lot of the DLC because my post was already long and I felt like adding too much to it would have muddled any semblance of conciseness and train of thought I had when I originally wrote it. XD )

How much did Yakou know?

Very long and detailed analysis of Yakou's involvement in the plot beneath the cut.

Yakou is an interesting character to me. He gets his own mildly insightful short story about his detective origins. However, I crave to think that there's gotta be more to him than just the kind of pathetic (affectionate) stressed out dad-like figure that mostly kind of nags and bosses Yuma around for the majority of the game.

Ok, it sounds like I'm ragging on him, but he does have an occasional side of him in dire situations where he shows a selfless loyalty and trust in his team that proves he takes his leadership position seriously, even if he does really rock the irresponsible mess look. And he gets to be cool in his own chapter for a minute.

But there is a moment that sticks out to me, especially in hindsight after finishing the game, and that's the prologue where you get your first and probably most substantial talk with him.

He says that he does not want Kanai Ward to change practically within the same breath where he explains how terribly he's treated as a detective in this horrendously corrupt murder infested police state.

Although he makes it clear that he has a deep personal affection and nostalgic attachment to this city that shows a bias for why he would say this, we hear from multiple people throughout the game that Kanai Ward has not been the same in recent years as it has been in the past that Yakou has rooted his love in.

So why does he feel as if any change to the current state of Kanai Ward would disrupt the "peace and quiet" it deserves?

Unless he knows something about the city that's just so fundamentally irreparable that this is the closest to peace and quiet that it'll ever get again, and trying to fix it would only somehow destroy it.

Everything about the rooftop scene, from talking about the city, to Shinigami commenting on how ominous he feels to her, to the fact that he's the person who explains the rumor that the rain affects peoples' bodies.

Highlighted text tends to be easy to overlook, but I can't help but feel like there's some significance to his usage of "illusion in the rain". It's like he knows something that nobody else can see (and an obvious foreshadowing of how the rain is one of the main means of covering up Kanai Ward's mystery).

But this segues into the themes of his later chapter which also focuses on Vivia, who mirrors Yakou in a lot of ways, beyond just being another guy who muses on about peace and quiet.

Speaking of, a mirror is what Vivia uses as a metaphor for the benefit of blissful ignorance and the potential catastrophic dangers of the painful truth.

For the purposes of this chapter, he is explaining the type of pain and the effect on Yuma's world view that uncovering Yakou's crime will incur. It also acts as a setup for the development of Yuma's conviction that he will later need to use in the final chapter of the game. But the distorted reality the Vivia explains in the mirror does call me back to Yakou's "illusion in the rain" comment.

Vivia also explains that the truth that Yuma uncovers for truth's sake will lead to the destruction of the world. While he could be referring to the world and humanity in general, in the context of this chapter, world can mean a lot of things though, such as Yuma's innocence in the way he views the world as he knows it.

Or namely, from Makoto's point of view, it could also mean the destruction of the homunculi and the only version of the world that Makoto believes they can exist in.

Did Yakou come to a similar conclusion as Makoto based on what he found out?

Like Vivia in chapter 4, who did not want the culprit to be revealed, it seemed like Yakou had the full intention of not cooperating with investigating the Kanai Ward mystery until he was forced to by a directive from Number One. Even so, he came off as if encouraging the detectives to drag their feet on it for the sake of staying out of trouble.

But we know that he is not lazy, unmotivated, or stupid. In a world where you're competing with people who are fast-tracked into the WDO if they have literal super powers, Yakou was inducted by pure detective skill. He had definitely been spending a lot of his time laying low and investigating Kanai Ward himself, because he didn't trust the UG or the WDO if they turned their attention to the city.

Yakou already knew about the homunculus research in some way.

Even if he didn't know about everyone being a homunculus, he at least knew enough that he believed that the city itself would be shattered by the involvement of the UG and WDO.

And then we get to chapter 5 with the mindless zombie homunculi.

Except, they're not all completely mindless. As a matter of fact, I had come to notice something about all the non-aggressive homunculi: they all seemed to have some degree of awareness about Amaterasu's research.

The fake Zilch, who was one of Yomi's closest advisors and knew about all of Dr Huesca's and Yomi's activity in the lab concerning homunculus research, and was implied to be the one who killed Yakou's wife for whistleblowing. Fink, who was propositioned by Makoto himself to infiltrate the lab, and who was then killed by Makoto for 'knowing too much'. Dr Huesca, who was the head researcher for the homunculi. And the former CEO, who was the prime overseer of the research.

And then there was Yakou, who gives Yuma the video evidence of Dr Huesca's death at the hands of the homunculi as he explained the results of the experiment. The easy explanation is that Makoto planted this video on the zombie Yakou to be given to Yuma in the restricted area.

However, another thing that the non-aggressive zombies had in common is that they seemed to be stuck thinking about what seems to be their final thoughts before their death, barring the former CEO who was unusually lucid compared to all of them.

Considering this, I feel like Yakou's final thoughts were for Yuma to expose the truth about the homunculi for him, and to give him the DVD as the key evidence he needed. Whether Makoto gave Yakou this video, or if Yakou already had this video himself, his final thought before dying was to make sure Yuma got it.

I always thought it was a bit strange for Yakou to go and decide to murder Dr Huesca at the slightest provocation by Yomi, and then had this whole complicated coverup plan. If Kurumi could look into Yakou's background for only a day and come to the conclusion that Amaterasu had killed his wife for whistleblowing, then Yakou himself would've definitely already known and could've tried to kill Dr Huesca a long time ago.

I don't think the provocation was by Yomi's letter. I believe at some point, he had found out that Huesca and Yomi could possibly leak information about the homunculus research. He decided to kill Huesca as a gambit reveal Yomi's involvement with leaking research before it could get out into the public and destroy Kanai Ward, and he entrusted this truth to Yuma and the rest of his detectives. Yakou knew that the lie that they were living, the one that was keeping Kanai Ward together, wasn't going to last much longer.

This conveniently aligned with Makoto's motives to oust Yomi. Makoto, the one who also knew that Yomi would cause the lie holding Kanai Ward together to unravel, and who happened to introduce Fink to Yakou. Fink thought that Yakou did not know about Makoto orchestrating their meeting, and perhaps he was right in that Yakou didn't know that it was Makoto specifically, but maybe Makoto was the one who tipped Yakou off to Amaterasu's homunculus research possibly being leaked and may have even given Yakou the DVD.

Makoto may not have exactly manipulated Yakou. It just simply that both Yakou and Makoto similarly knew that the UG sticking their nose into Kanai Ward about the homunculus research was incredibly dangerous. Makoto simply gave Yakou the ultimatum and means to stop Yomi. The difference is that Makoto's goal was to get rid of Yomi and assume full control of the city in order to further suppress its secret, but Yakou's goal was the provide the truth to his detectives in order to fix things.

And I wrote all this BEFORE the Yakou DLC came out.

Where we find out that Yakou has had the prototype cure for homunculi the whole time. And depending on whether or not his wife here is a ghost or a hallucination, it seems like she had always known that there would be a need to regenerate the zombified brain cells of homunculi. Yakou might've been biding time not only to try and figure out how to reconcile the whole homunculus research issue without the UG destroying Kanai Ward, but maybe also for someone to finish research on this medicine.

TLDR; Yakou had always known about the homunculus research and was hiding it because he believed that the info getting leaked would cause the destruction of Kanai Ward by the hands of the UG. In the end, he figured out that the secret would not keep up for much longer, and his plot in chapter 4 wasn't for revenge, but to entrust that Yuma and the rest of his detectives would be able to uncover the truth and work out a way to save Kanai Ward.

[ravenswritingblog]

sudden.

in which kento slips up for once *giggles*

there's something unexplainably fascinating about his wife conversating on the most different topics with such a disarming intelligence, so loquacious and flowing with her words.

she's discussing with her friend, and he's listening quietly but the topic didn't suscitate much interest in him.

nevertheless he looks at her and lets a smile take over his expression.

pretty isn't she? he thinks to himself.

“think about it for a second. wherever you look there's a reference, a joke, an image from a "certain angle" or perspective, an implicit demand for it to be in everything we see. society has transformed such an intimate concept into an empty, easily accessible thing with no depth or whatsoever."

he blinks a couple of times. he's spacing out as he stares at her lips, thinking of them on his, the warmth of her small body against his, broad and big. he bites his lower lip. sweetheart of mine. he shakes his head, going back to reality.

“it's almost like people can't stop thinking about sex, you get me?” are the last words of your discourse, the only ones he hears.

without even blinking he blurts out a “wait, can you?” and he knows he fucked up.

his cheeks go red along with the tip of his ears, his eyes widen in disbelief for what he just said and yours don't hesitate to do so either. he straightens up on his seat, he's absolutely frozen.

what the fuck is wrong with me.

he starts muttering something, some sort of apology without even daring to look at his wife, who must be, undoubtedly and obviously, furious at him.

“kento..” she starts to say but he's quick to get up and mutter an 'excuse me' before leaving as fast as possible.

his mind keeps telling him how stupid he must've looked and just how awkward in must've made his wife feel.

he couldn't stop rushing his thoughts back and forth between his and her image. thinking of how he just put her in a terrible light, overshadowing all her qualities and nullifying her discourse with such a dumb, depth lacking comment.

he refuged himself in the room right next to the one he was just in and sat on the floor with his hands on his face, still heated up in embarrassment.

meantime y/n was still processing what just happened. she takes a look at her friend whose eyebrows are raised, they were holding in a little giggle, threatening to become a full sound laughter.

“i... i'll go check on him” she says, getting up to reach him.

she slowly opens the door “kento?”

he gets up so quickly to walk to her that she thinks she hallucinated. in the blink of an eye he's in front of her with his head down.

“y/n, dear. i'm so sorry, i really didn't mean to belittle you with my words, it was supposed to be a thought, only to myself, something i would've joked about with you later in private. i- really i had no intention of embarrassing you or anything i-”

“kento.” she firmly calls him, stopping his little ranting.

he still dares not to look at her.

she sighs “it's okay. i was just very surprised since it is nothing like you to just blurt our certain things in front of others.”

his frowned expression told her how sorry he felt as he finally looked at her.

“we're good baby. don't worry”

she sighs once again before giggling. “dummy.”

he scrunches up his nose, trying to hold in a smile and she kisses his cheek, leaving him in the room blushing a bit more.

©kentoswifewritingblog. do not use, translate or rewrite anything without permission.

endless thank yous to my best friend. always by my side. my one and only. @kalineedsasupportkento

[rafescoke]

Need To Know ; Rafe Cameron (Part 3)

masterlist

#Part 3

Previous parts: #Part 1, #Part 2

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: The reader confronts Rafe about his past

Warnings: Mentions of suicide!, major feels, substance, swearing, angst

A/N: I’m sorry for what I’m about to put you guys through. Thank you for 400 followers ily <3

p.s, my request box is always open

“Hello?”

“Hey?”

(Y/N) stopped pacing, her heartbeat quickening. She glanced at her wall, searching for the time, and she felt her heart ripping in two.

12.03 a.m.

“Hello?” The feminine voice said again, annoyed.

“Who is this?” She whispered, and she didn’t know what she was expecting. A part of her was telling her to end the call for the sake of her mental health, and another part of her was telling her to stay and wait.

“Who is this? You called me,” the voice sighed, and (Y/N) could hear the distant laughter coming from the television in the background. “Look, is this a prank? I’m not going to-”

“Is Rafe there?” She mumbled, and she could feel her forehead starting to sweat. She looked down to her hands, noticing how they were in a fist involuntarily.

“Who is this?” The voice asked again, but her voice perked up. “Sarah?”

“Who is it?” A manly voice suddenly appeared in the distant and (Y/N) widened her eyes, her mind starting to connect the dots. (Y/N) listened as whoever it was struggled to hold the phone while Rafe pushed them off for it before his voice thrummed against her eardrums again. “Who is this?”

She didn’t say anything, but she could feel her tears slowly pooling on the bottoms of her eyes. How could he do this to her? It has been 2 weeks since they last talked to each other, and when she finally tried to make it right again, here he was; with his ex.

“End it,” Rafe said to the girl, and before (Y/N) could say anything she heard the dial sped up, noting the end of the phone call. She stayed in the standing position a few more minutes, her head starting to feel light and she could feel her bearings slowly disappearing.

She hadn’t been eating good since their last fight, and most of her friends were starting to worry for her. Topper and Kelce came to visit her earlier that day, bringing McDonald’s and her favourite chocolate, but all she did was giving them a weak smile and proceeded to eat only a few of the fries before offering them to her father.

And she thought Rafe would be worse since he was the one who’s in the wrong, but based on her latest call, it gave her a clear meaning of how he doesn’t care about them and fixing whatever they had left.

She laughed, letting her tears fell to her cheeks, getting so used to her sore eyes now that they were apart of her look now. Her mind didn’t stop thinking about Rafe and the possibilities of them being together again, and how she hoped against hope that it was all a bit misunderstanding, and that he was just there with his ex for. . .

She didn’t know. There was no good reason for someone to stay in the same room as their ex, good friends or not.

She didn’t fell asleep until 6 in the morning, and she was woken up by the soft rapping against her door by her mother, asking her to wake up to start her day. She opened her eyes for a while, trying to think about what happened previously, and when the thought of what happened a few hours ago occurred in her mind, she closed her eyes to sleep them off again.

“Hey.”

“Huh?” She groaned, trying to open her eyes against the bright sunlight coming from her once always-open window. “Tops? What are you doing here?”

“I came to check on you,” he said, and watched as she shifted into a seating position. She was a mess; her hair was no longer that shiny (H/C) colour, her eyes were puffy and sore and her cheeks were red and blotchy. She was the epitome of a heartbreak.

“And I’m right. You’re not doing good.”

“I’m tired,” she croaked, and she sighed. Good. Another part of her losing. From her bright face to her hair, now it was the voice.

“And that’s not good,” Topper groaned, standing up and offering his hand to her. “You’ve been like this for 2 weeks, (Y/N), and I’m not letting you go on with this until the summer ends.”

“I’ll kill myself by then,” she mumbled, still not budging from her seat. “You should leave. I don’t want you here.”

Topper stared at her, and retrieved his hands back. (Y/N) glanced up at the blonde boy and sighed, shaking her head.

“I’m sorry, Tops. I don’t mean it like that. I’m just not okay. Thanks for checking up on me,” she quickly said, offering her own hands at him. Topper took her hands in his, pulling her up to her feet and watching her scrunched up sheets, signalling how she had been spending most of her time in there.

“It’s okay,” he said, “But I can’t let you do this to yourself, okay? We miss the bright you.”

“Rafe doesn’t seem to miss me.”

“Fuck him, god,” He groaned, already pulling her to the bathroom. “Look, there’s a party tonight-” he watched her face changed, “Wait! And I don’t think Rafe’s going to be there. Just a small party, you’re going to be there with me and Kelce, and it’s just going to be perfect. You’re in?”

“I look horrible.”

“Nothing a shower can’t fix.”

She groaned, scrunching her face up. “Fine. Only tonight. And you’re staying with me.”

Topper smiled, pulling her into a side hug and letting go of her quickly, pretending to pull a disgusted face only for her to push him away. “Kidding. You still smell good even after not showering for 3 days.”

“I shower.”

“It’s okay to not shower,” he sighed, watching her enter the bathroom and quickly locking the door. He leaned against the door, putting his mouth near the slit so she could hear him. “But it’s not okay to lie.”

(Y/N) laughed genuinely for the first time in 2 weeks, her heart lifting and her skin slowly regaining its colour.

Maybe she does want her old life back, even if there’s no Rafe in it.

. . .

“The news got around fast,” (Y/N) mumbled, throwing her now-shampooed hair over her shoulder. She watched as Kelce laughed, and noticed another pair of eyes on her. She gave the owner a look, to which she quickly looked away, embarrassed to be caught.

“Obx is small,” Topper shrugged, handing her a the red cup filled with Pepsi (she had told him beforehand that she wants to stay sober) with a sly smile. “And you’re the kook’s princess. I’m not surprised.”

(Y/N) scrunched her face at the taste of the carbonated drink, and put the cup aside, putting her hands up to her friends as a ‘wait’ sign before making her way to the drinks counter for a better choice. Her eyes skimmed over the mineral water to the cocktail, and lastly; the shots.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“What? You told me I should have fun,” (Y/N) giggled, placing three shot glass on the table and a big glass bottle of Absolute Vodka. “Come on. Tops, you said you missed the old me.”

He swallowed his saliva and sighed, “Fine. One shot only.”

“Fair,” she giggled, pouring the alcohol into each glass and watched as her friends prepared themselves. They downed the whole glass when the counting by Kelce reached ‘3’, scrunching up their faces and feeling their throats burning from the taste.

(Y/N) laughed, her mind woozy and her heartbeat quickening from the thrill of everything. “This is fun.”

Topper laughed along with her, watching the way she was tilting her head. “Yeah. But that’s enough.”

“You’re no fun,” she pouted, and before he could stop her she downed herself another glass and shook her head right after, feeling the liquid slowly making their way down to her empty stomach.

“That’s enough,” Topper repeated, grabbing the bottle in case she was in her rebellion state, but he felt bad when she sat by the sofa with her arms crossed, not looking at him and inconstantly tapping her feet lightly to the music.

“Try something lighter,” he offered, and watched as she kept ignoring him. “You’re impossible.”

“I just want to drink,” she rolled her eyes, still not looking at him. She thought about how drinking was the only way to forget about him because all she wanted was to stop thinking about that certain boy for just a few minutes.

“Okay. But be careful,” he said, handing her the glass bottle. (Y/N) exclaimed in happiness and he couldn’t help but smile at her, watching her drinking straight from the bottle.

“Okay, fuck, you’re a bitch,” he quickly pulled the bottle away when she went for another gulp, “You broke our promise. Now you’re going to be drunk.”

“I’m not drunk,” she groaned, “I’m hardly ever drunk.”

But she felt light. So, so light. She felt like floating around the room, laughing at every joke and fighting with anyone who disagrees with her.

“I know that look,” Topper grunted, and sighed. “Just don’t do anything stupid.”

“I’m not, I’m just going to go to the bathroom, okay?-” she made to stand up, holding her hand up, “And don’t follow me, Tops, that’s sexual harassment.”

Kelce laughed and Topper hit him, muttering angrily about how ‘I was just trying to look after he, man’. His eyes followed her movement to the door on the far left of the house and he sighed, thinking about how this wasn’t his plan to help her at all.

(Y/N) hummed to the song blaring from the speaker as she tried to find the bathroom, being shocked twice to strangers kissing in a small room when she opened the door. She sighed, because she couldn’t guess her bearings anymore; she felt as if she was going around in circles, and there was no exit.

“(Y/N)?”

Her eyes fell on a pair of blue eyes, and she felt her heart stopped.

Is she hallucinating?

“Hey, you’re okay?” He made to touch her, but she flinched and pulled away, her heart banging against her chest.

“No,” she said, trying to get past him only to stumble, feeling so lightheaded she couldn’t differentiate the colours of the wall and the floor. Rafe caught her arms, lifting her up and helping her to walk.

“Let go,” she said, but she leaned onto his warm touch. She felt like crying; she missed his scent; a mixture of cigarette and expensive cologne and his hands around her, and she felt like enclosing herself to him.

“I’m not letting you go, you’ll fall,” he said, still trying to help her walk. “Did you drink anything?”

“What’dya think?” She mumbled, closing her eyes and letting him helped her. She didn’t have the strength to open her eyes anymore, and she wasn’t sure if it was because of the drinks or the sadness in her.

Rafe placed the intoxicated girl on top of a bed in an extra guest bedroom, watching as her chest heaved up and down slowly. He was sure she was sleeping from the way she was breathing and tried to leave her be before she realised that it was him who brought her in, but her fingers were wrapped around his wrist before he could go.

He stared at her as she slowly opened her eyes, and Rafe felt all the hurt in his heart starting to form again. She looked angelic, all soft under his touch, and he had missed her more than anything else in the world.

“Don’t go,” she whispered. “I missed you.”

His breath hitched, because he knew he didn’t deserve her. She was this gold trophy everyone wanted, and it was like he couldn’t take care of it. He sniffed and looked away, not wanting to stare into her eyes again.

“What’s wrong?” She whispered, her voice creaking. “Do you not love me anymore?”

“You know that’s not true,” he forced himself to speak, sighing. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

“It’s okay,” she smiled weakly, pulling him next to her again. “We can be together again, right? Like always? I need you here, Rafe.”

“You don’t mean that,” he whispered back, and watched as her face contorted into anger.

“What do you mean I don’t mean that?” She tried to sir up, holding her head. Rafe tried to help her down again to which she swatted his hands away, “Don’t fucking touch me. I swear to god.”

“You’re drunk,” he tried to console her, putting his hands up in a surrender mode and watched as she backed away from him. “And I get that. I’m sorry. I won’t talk to you again.”

“You can’t just sorry me, fuck, Rafe, you’re an asshole,” she laughed, pointing her fingers at him. “You can’t tell me you’re sorry when you’re back with your fucking ex.”

He raised his brows, looking up to her. “What are you saying? I’m not back. . . oh. Oh my god. No, no, it’s not-” he watched her face changing, “No, no, baby, it’s not what you think it is.”

“I heard her.”

“I was just there, to, um, to talk to her-” he stood up, trying to get closer to her. He wanted to hold her, letting her stare into his eyes and see how sincere he is. In truth, he had been over his ex’s house to talk about how they should both put the failed relationship behind them for the sake of their future lives, but when he went to the toilet, (Y/N) had called him unexpectedly and of course his ex would pick the call up.

She’s always in for drama.

“Talk? Or fuck?”

“God, (Y/N), I swear! I was just talking to her!” He groaned, pulling on his hair and making it more messier than before. “I wanted her to stop talking about me and I’m sorry she answered the call, okay? I was, I, I was in the bathroom.”

“You’re stuttering,” she spitted, anger coursing through her veins. If he thought she would believe his stupid lies again. . .

“I’m nervous, fuck!” He cursed, looking into her eyes to search for any ounce of love she had had for him before. “Please, listen to me, (Y/N), I love you too much to let this go. I can’t let you go. I can’t.”

They were both breathing heavily, coming down from the brief fight they had a few minutes ago. He watched as she scooted closer, cupping his face to look into her eyes again. He sniffed, and he felt his temperature warming up.

“I trusted you, Rafe.”

“You can trust me again, (Y/N), I’m not lying, I swear,” he begged, putting his hands above hers. She closed her eyes, letting the tears under her eyes fell down to her cheeks, and Rafe quickly wiped them away, his heart heavy.

“Please. One more chance. Please.”

“I don’t know-”

“Please. I can’t live without you. I’ve been living off coke and fucking mineral bottles and I just can’t bring myself to do anything without you by my side,” he confessed, his own eyes glassy. “Please. You know you’re all I have.”

(Y/N) swiped her thumb over his lips and watched as he cried. She pulled him into a hug, her own heart heavy from the only choices she had; to go back, or don’t.

“I will always love you, Rafe. You do know that, right?” She whispered into his ear, and he pulled her closer. “And we can always be (Y/N) and Rafe.”

“Yeah,” he laughed, pulling them apart and cupping her face using his large hands. They were both crying now, staring into each other’s life as if on life support. “We can still be them, baby, we can.”

“We can’t.”

His face contorted into confusion, “No, no, we can. I swear. I’ll change. I’ll do anything for you.”

“We can’t, Rafe,” she sighed, holding cupping his own face with her fingers again. “And you know it. We’re just not ready for it.”

“We can,” he begged, his own voice trailing. “We can, baby, we can.”

“I’m always here for you, Rafe,” she said, her voice breaking. “And we’re just not fit for each other.”

“We are,” he tried, but he knew that look. He knew that final look so well. His heart felt heavier than ever now, and all he could think about was running non-stop until he couldn’t breathe.

He wasn’t sure if he wanted to live anymore.

He pulled away, shielding himself from her using his back, wiping his tears and standing up from the bed. (Y/N) didn’t try to stop him now, watching him as he walked slowly towards the door.

He turned to look at her again for the last time, muttering a ‘I’m sorry’ before exiting the room. (Y/N) sighed, not wanting to walk out of the room, but she knew she had to get back to Topper before he finally realised her disappearance.

Her head felt better now, although she’ve just done the most hardest thing in her life. She knew their relationship wouldn’t be the same if she had accepted him back, already overseeing the amount of fights they’re going to have in the car, the screams they’ll give to each other. . . the best thing to do was to let him go.

Rafe didn’t think he was joking about wanting to end everything. He lost everything in his world; he lost his father who didn’t care about him, he lost his real mom, his relationship with his sisters and now, her.

He parked his car and stared at the blackness in front of him, his heart almost certain. He was scared, of course, but he didn’t want to think anymore.

The night breeze hit him as he made his way to the edge, hearing the sound of waves filling his eardrums. He took a look at the strong current below him and shuddered.

He thought about her again, his heartbeat beating faster. He saw her smile in his mind, her beautiful eyes and that calming voice.

He smiled, his cheeks wet from his tears, and did what he thought was right.

-

taglist is closed atm until i figure out wtf is going on with tumblr :(

@okayshoto @joselyn001 @onceuponateenagetrash @dyingsleeping @im19yearsold @iwannabeapogue @meaganjm @rafesobxs @flossy2929 @drewstarkeyluver @unfortunatekiwitrash @Mellifluouszayn @hhishho @hvrcruxes @scottybitch @asimpwriter @starxqt @amaya124 @Made212 @adriee16 @eggirl @tommy-tommo @thatshithurted8 @beyatch012 @fallincindy @marvelwhor3 @rafeswh0ree @kookap @supernaturallydc-blog @blank-velvet @alaniskauany @lumzs @kiiim8 @witchywrter @kaitlyn2907 @heyimflo @overcookedpastasauce @tsukkiswifeey @spidey-d00d @anonymousobxfan @gotmeinloveagain @chicagoblackhawkslover96 @lexi-writes @Emmalvei_03 @classydragonthingknight @belongtoyou-u

[vividaway]

my thoughts, and reiterations about gabbie from twitter.

i'm saying this as a fan of gabbie, AND as someone who's been in bipolar psychosis before: hate her all you want. But whats happening with Gabbie Hanna right now has NOTHING to do with drama, NOTHING to do with attention, and NOTHING to do with her music. people spreading that rumor are genuinely bordering on ableism and refuse to do their own research. 1. gabbie's been diagnosed for a little under a year, so she's still trying to find stability.

2. gabbie is PERSONALLY anti-pharma (she gets paranoid about what she's putting into her body, but has no opinions about others who medicate)

3. gabbie's album came out a month ago, and she was one of the first female independent artists to hit the top of the rock charts. gabbie doesn't NEED drama for her music to succeed, nor would this benefit her in any way HAD it been staged.

4. gabbie's BIGGEST, BIGGEST fear is (in her own words) "to go crazy, and not realize it". anyone who's up to date on her tiktoks knows EXACTLY why that statement is beyond terrifying, and how it BEYOND applies to this situation. 5. the argument that "gabbie has done this before" is just plain wrong. gabbie has published a MULTITUDE of videos about the depressive side of her bipolar, but she has ALWAYS gone offline when she got manic.

6. the argument that "gabbie admitted that she's just trolling" is also incorrect. in 2020-2021 gabbie started posting tiktoks (which are now viral) which were taken as her being in a manic state. gabbie tried to tell people a MULTITUDE of times that she wasn't manic, and people refused to listen. this is different from gabbie saying she isnt manic NOW, because gabbie wasnt in PSYCHOSIS in 2020-2021 like she is now. she wasnt DELUSIONAL in 2020-2021 like she is now.

the tiktoks in question were the ones of her in the car, shouting. her "i'm back, bitches" tiktok, and her tiktok where she was dressed like this:

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i want to include some words copied DIRECTLY from twitter, because they are ABSOLUTELY CORRECT.

the gabbie hanna thing is making me realize how many of y'all have zero understanding of mental health beyond depression and anxiety (if even that) "if she wanted help she would get it" during a psychotic episode/hallucinations you don't think anything is wrong and often refuse

mental illness is considered an illness for a reason. it’s suddenly no longer offered sympathy when it does not present in a way that’s acceptable or pretty and “quirky”. gabbie hanna is literally not well, hold her accountable when she’s in the headspace to realize her wrongs

“hold gabbie hanna accountable” you cannot hold someone going through actual fcking psychosis accountable for anything. this is not just mania. this is a psychotic break. she is entirely disconnected from reality.

every time gabbie hanna starts trending, it reminds me how most people only care about mental health if it's romanticizable, and not self-destructve and ugly like a lot of issues are

fun fact, you can be worried for gabbie hanna's mental state atm and still be pissed that she's saying racist shit like this isn't mutually exclusive. is she saying terrible things because of her psychotic episode? yeah most likely. am i still upset she's saying these terrible things? obviously. am i still worried for her health and hope someone helps her quickly? she's still human, of course i want her to get help

yeah, regardless of how you feel about gabbie hanna and all the shit she's done in the past, can we please stop saying that people reveal their true, "deep down" feelings when they're manic? it's inaccurate and unhelpful

the way y’all are talking about gabbie hanna rn proves that the majority of you really have no clue what real, severe mental/psychotic breaks look like. y’all are so “mental health awareness!” until said mental health manifests in a way that makes you uncomfortable……

The thing some of y’all need to remember about this gabbie hanna situation is that even bad people deserve mental healthcare. Let her come through the other side of this episode before you expect her to address it and apologize. It might be a while. Be patient.

the gabbie hanna situation is a good reminder that we as a society lack the proper skills and resources to support people in psychosis (as it appears she is in) if you find yourself helping someone experiencing psychosis, here are some tips:

-do NOT try to rationalize delusions/beliefs. you’re not gonna convince them, and it’ll strain your ability to communicate -speak in calm and short sentences. don’t freak out. don’t laugh at them -empathize and validate their emotions. psychosis can be absolutely terrifying

-if possible, pull them aside to a safe, comfortable place. offer water/snacks/etc -discuss resources. offer to take them to the ER or call a crisis support line for them. however, if they refuse treatment do NOT threaten or coerce. only call 911 if they are in immediate danger

-they may refuse help at the moment. allow them to do so. they still have autonomy. tell them that the offer stands and that if they ever change their mind you are there for them. coercion and threatening may ruin your chance at helping them, paranoia is common with psychosis

-lastly, remember that people in psychosis are MUCH more likely to be a victim of violence than the other way around. they are in an extremely vulnerable state that is easily taken advantage of

on calling 911: -it’s not helpful, and can be harmful, if you call 911 on someone in psychosis with no risk of harm to themselves or others -determining level of risk as a layperson is hard. if there is not immediate danger (i.e. standing on the edge of the roof) a crisis line

may be more suitable. they may tell you to call 911 -just bc you call 911 doesn’t automatically mean the person will be involuntarily hospitalized. there are people in ERs who are trained in determining risk of harm -IT IS BETTER TO BE SAFE THAN SORRY! when in doubt, call 911

resources available: -911 -988 (a US national hotline for mental health crises) -local community mental health centers -local crisis hotlines -ERs. if you live by a psych ER that’s even better -mental health crisis centers (if there are any around) -their therapist/psychiatrist