#probably some traumatic flashbacks here and there

[wildsaltair]

politely I’d like to do him so good he forgets his own name

[yandereunsolved]

Yandere self-aware Jason Todd—not as unhinged and violent as you'd think

Yandere Jason Todd first met you when he was simply a strong-headed, innocent Robin. He was incredibly curious and happy to have a friend who was with him throughout all of his adventures. He didn't know if you were a god or simply a delusion. So he just called you his imaginary friend. Whenever someone caught him talking to himself, he'd just say that he was spending time with his friend.

Yandere Jason Todd who became obsessed with you during his time with the Joker. It was the only way he was able to maintain a shred of sanity. He knew that this was real to him, and to some extent, this was real to you. So he'd watch your expressions and listen to your worried words. It felt like you were protecting his soul from being fully corrupted by the batshit crazy party clown. 

Yandere Jason Todd still treated you as his friend when he was revived. He writhed in pain and called out your name, something he learned when you were talking to one of your 'friends'. Friends? No, he was your friend. You've been together since the beginning. That one was just fake. They wanted to hurt you. He needed to save you, but he was stuck here with burning lungs and blurry vision.

Yandere Jason Todd feels so vulnerable in front of you. All of the cruel things he has done, and you still stick with him. He's afraid that you truly are a delusion. If you are, he doesn't want you to ever go away. He hates it, but he loves it so much more. He can't help but look up at you and ask if you forgive him. It's so pathetic. He knows it is. He just can't let you leave, ever. 

Yandere Jason Todd hopes that he can have a family with you someday. He doesn't exactly have Bruce or anyone else. He fucked up all of his romantic relationships. He looks even more fucked up. He's so unlovable, and yet you look at him in a way no one ever has. 

The family doesn't need to be big. It can just be you and him. You can have pets or children. Jason would probably suck with both, but you can teach him!

It keeps him up at night—this dream, this fantasy of his. It keeps the traumatic demons from overtaking his mind and sending him into CPTSD flashbacks accompanied by panic attacks and destructive, violent fits. 

Yandere Jason Todd who is done with this bullshit. You have rescurrections, time travel, and gadgets that look like they could only exist in sci-fi. They have all of this, and he still can't find a way to get to you! 

Yandere Jason Todd proposes from within his world. He begs you to accept him as he is. He spills his heart out. It's his last chance at happiness. He can't not take it. The real question is, do you accept? Are you willing to face the consequences of accepting or rejecting him?

[always-just-red]

Merry Christmas, guys!!! Ok, so this is a day early, but I wanted to say thanks to you all with a feel-good follow-up to my Game Night fic! So, here: a Christmas Eve sleepover with the boys, and they’re on their VERY best behaviour this time, I promise 😌

The Night Before Christmas

L&DS Boys X Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Summary: It’s time to get the gang back together!!!

Genre: Fluff + humour

Warnings/Additional Tags: gn!reader, kinda poly? but mostly platonic, a lil bit of wholesome intimacy, one particularly suggestive joke from Sylus (he can’t help himself), also probably needs another proofread but my eyes are tired 💀

| Word count: 4.8k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

“Right! Let’s try this again.”

You glance around your living room with your hands on your hips, channelling your inner Captain Jenna as you fight to suppress flashbacks that verge on traumatic.

Some of this is exactly the same as last time. Sylus is sprawled in the same spot on your couch, looking inordinately pleased with himself for someone who has only just arrived. The very image of smugness; you immediately suspect that something is horribly wrong, or on track to go horribly wrong. You glance to the other couch, where Xavier and Rafayel sit, equally braced for your presentation. Neither one has been teleported to the roof of your building.

Sylus is reading your relief, and he gives you an exclusive smile, as if to say: yet.

Try not to think about it.

You stand by a large drawing pad— currently flipped closed to create a suspense that only Xavier has bought into. He gives you an eager nod, the blue of his eyes warm and encouraging.

The faces around you haven’t changed, but your little apartment has. Strings of twinkling lights run around your walls, casting faint, festive glows. There’s frost on your windows. Littered everywhere are ornaments: small, glittery birds and wintery creatures. Lots of snowman plushies, courtesy of a few, dedicated arcade expeditions with your favourite doctor.

New season, new start.

“We all remember how this went last time,” you push on finally. “Mistakes were made. Shit happened. Whatever— we’re not gonna dwell on it.”

Sylus lifts his hand. “I, for one, would enjoy a reminder of said mistakes.”

“Motion denied,” you dismiss with a grin and a customer-service enthusiasm that screams: don’t fuck with me right now. Sylus’s eyes sparkle, like embers anxious to become something brighter— more destructive. Don’t think about it. “It wasn’t my fault. You outnumbered me four-to-one that night, which is why my first order of business today is to appoint a co-host.”

Rafayel’s hand shoots into the air. You look at him incredulously. Zayne is stood beside you, his arms folded, and everyone else in the room has connected those particular dots.

“It’s Zayne, Rafayel,” you sigh. 

“What?!” He sits up straighter. “Why him?! What are his qualifications, huh? His credentials?”

“I’ve never set the kitchen on fire,” Zayne says.

The artist scoffs, adds under his breath: “Turned it into an ice rink, though.”

There’s a chuckle from Sylus, and a part of you feels bad, pitting Zayne against the others like this. But he’s not alone. He has you, just you, so you should probably do something. “That actually brings me really nicely to my next point, Raf, thank you.”

Unexpected praise. Rafayel stutters, a faint blush to his cheeks, and you take full advantage of having staggered him. “Zayne, do you wanna…?”

“Of course.” The dark-haired man adjusts his glasses, then addresses the rest of the room. “In the interest of everyone’s safety, we have devised a few rules to be adhered to for the rest of the evening. These will be enforced by a point system, which we will record… here.”

He flips the drawing pad open, and a blank table fills the top half of the page. Each quarter has been assigned a name. “Basically—” you gesture to it— “three strikes and you’re out.”

None of your guests look perturbed by this.

“The first rule is simple,” Zayne explains, pulling away a strip of paper from the bottom of the page, then reading the writing underneath: “No unauthorised use of Evols.”

Rafayel’s hand shoots up again. You tilt your head at it. “Yes, Raf?”

“Ok, so what if there’s a power-cut or something? Lights are out. Heating’s out. Big disaster, yeah? You’re saying I couldn’t—?” He clicks his fingers, spawning a small flame.

“We would use my Evol,” Xavier says with the gentle authority he uses to steer civilians away from a Wanderer incursion. “It’s safer.”

The flame is snuffed out. Rafayel huffs: “Don’t you use it to, like, kill things?”

“Yeah…” Xavier shrugs. “Bad things.”

“Second rule!” you chime.  

“Second rule,” Zayne echoes, peeling back the next strip of paper. There’s absolutely no showmanship, nor energy at all as he continues, “No unauthorised sarcasm.”

Another hand raises. “What would be authorised sarcasm?” Xavier asks, squinting as though he can’t quite figure it out on his own.

You purse your lips in thought. “If it makes me laugh?”

Rafayel is stroking his chin, his eyes narrowed, because he’s also thinking. “High risk, high reward,” he muses, and you shoot him a smile.

This is going better than you thought it would, actually. If you were to turn a few more pages of the drawing pad, you would see crude illustrations of the worst-case scenarios you’d sketched out for Zayne earlier. There’s one where Rafayel is trying to strangle Sylus with Christmas lights. There’s another where Zayne has turned you all into snowmen.

Don’t get ahead of yourself, though. The evening is young, and the snowman scenario is still very much on the table.

Culprit of about ninety percent of your nightmarish visions and drawings— Sylus has been unnervingly silent. You meet eyes with him, an inherent mistrust in your gaze. The success of this sweet, humble Christmas Eve hinges on you figuring out what he’s here for. His agenda. His ulterior motives.

What does he want from tonight? He smirks at you. You’re vaguely competent, and you can figure it out without him holding your hand, can’t you?

That reminds you of something. “Zayne.” You jostle your co-host by his arm. “Do the last rule!”

You’re excited about the last rule.

Zayne isn’t; he hesitates. “The last rule…” He rubs at the back of his neck. “It’s… it’s only applicable to you, Sylus.”

Sylus is now also excited about the last rule. You can tell from the way his lips part, for a second, like he wants to tell you just how flattered he is you spend so much of your time thinking about him.

You put Zayne out of his misery, tearing the final strip of paper away from the pad. The paper flutters to the ground like a very plain snowflake, and you wiggle your fingers, adorning the final rule with a touch of pizazz:

No smirking, sass, or general smugness.

A corner of Sylus’s mouth lifts. “Believe it or not, kitten, your little point system doesn’t scare me.”

You pick up the pen and score a mark under his name.

“Oh no,” he mutters lifelessly.

“Sarcasm!” Rafayel coughs.

You’re well ahead of him, already turning to make another mark. “Gods,” you hear Sylus grimace, not much more than a whisper, “you’re such a boy scout.”

There’s a snort from Rafayel. “Sorry, say that again? I couldn’t hear you over the sound of you totally getting kicked out of here.”

“Sarcasm,” Sylus says.

“Wait, I didn’t mean— no!”

You giggle as you issue Rafayel’s first strike, and he groans behind you, slumping down in his seat. When you turn back around, his face is buried in his hands.

Sylus is smirking again, but the expression drops the moment he senses your gaze. You both know what’s at stake here. Back in the N109 Zone, Luke and Kieran are lamenting the fact that you’ve stolen their leader— it’s not very Christmassy of you, after all. There were a lot of things they wanted to do with him. Snowball fights, presents, and a heist that required disguises: Santa and his two, hard-working elves. They already have the suit, custom-made for him.

So here is the big, bad boss of Onychinus, hiding in your apartment, and definitely not smirking.

You pop the lid back onto your pen, then post it into your pocket like you’re holstering an all-powerful weapon. That’s one point to you and Zayne, and zero points to Sylus, thank you very much.

…

“What are you doing?”

Sylus sighs, evading a furious lilac gaze while he focuses on the task at hand. Freshly escaped from you and the doctor’s terrifying lecture, he’s making the most of his liberty.

“What I am doing,” he mumbles, tying string around a sprig of mistletoe, “is between me and our charming host. Run along, little artist.” He tightens the knot. “This doesn’t concern you.”

Rafayel crosses his arms, his eyes dark. “You’re cheating.”

“Ha.” Sylus spares him a glance out of pity. “You’re jealous.”

“Am not.”

He definitely is, but Sylus doesn’t have time for this game. He can hear you in your bedroom, rooting around for the phone charger you’d vanished in search of. Your door isn’t closed, but it’s closed enough. You can’t see him. He can’t see you. What a perfect opportunity.

“Give it to me,” Rafayel says— an interruption that warrants a roll of the eyes.

“No.”

“Give it—“ the artist starts again, then makes a grab for the mistletoe. Now that’s jealousy. He could incinerate the plant with a click of his fingers, but no, he wants it. Covets it.

Sylus chuckles quietly, his arm stretching up: holding the mistletoe out of an ever-more desperate reach.

To Rafayel’s credit, he persists. He goes up on his toes, tugging at the older man’s sleeve to try and drag the mistletoe closer. The plant evaporates in a swirl of dark energy the second he succeeds. It materialises behind Sylus’s back, in his other hand, and Rafayel realises instantly. He tries to stretch his arms around him. To take it from him.

“Absolutely not!”

Sylus’s fingers are suddenly empty. Mistletoe-less. He turns reluctantly, still holding Rafayel back.

You stand at your wide-open door, one hand on your hips and the other clutching his confiscated item. You’re frowning. Tapping your foot. Your lips are pursed adorably.

“What a coincidence, kitten,” Sylus smiles, and behind him, Rafayel pokes his tongue out, overcome with nausea. “I was just thinking about you.”

“Clearly.” You jostle the mistletoe, looking… disappointed? Huh. “Never thought I’d catch you indulging an old cliche.”

Sylus shrugs charmingly, like a cat performing a leisurely stretch after toppling a vase from a very high shelf.

“Give me the rest of it,” you command.

“Hmm?”

“The back-up mistletoe, Sy. I’m not an idiot.”

Sylus scoffs, but you do have him wrapped oh so prettily around your finger. He rolls his neck, stalling. If giving up were a slope, he would already be a heap at the bottom of it, but he doesn’t really mind. Three more sprigs of mistletoe appear from thin air, dropping into your open hands.

“Honestly, Sylus,” you groan, stepping past him. Then you thrust the plants to the artist’s chest. “Burn these, Raf.” You’re dusting your hands down as you walk away.

Sylus frowns. That’s neither ideal nor part of the plan.

Rafayel is looking at him, telling him with gloating silence that there’s no playing diplomat, here— no negotiating the return of the hostages. That bridge has been— rather fittingly— burned. The mistletoe turns slowly to ash: darkened by licks of flame that curl with the eager spite of their master’s lips.

It would be beautiful if it wasn’t so damned inconvenient. When the fire’s had its fun, one sprig of mistletoe remains, rich green and ivory— wholly untouched. You’re across the room, talking to Zayne, so Rafayel smirks in triumph. Tucks his prize into his pocket.

Sylus’s heart sinks with it, but he still smiles back.

…

Rafayel isn’t looking too good.

Well, the Rafayel is looking fine, but your Rafayel? Not so much. You steal a glance at the artist across the cluttered kitchen island; he’s sat, leaning, propped up on his elbows, his eyes glazed— he’s clearly away with the fishies. He catches you staring. Gives you a wink.

You glance down at the gingerbread man you’ve been decorating: the blue-pink of his iced eyes, and the mess of purple hair, at least three shades too dark. Oh, gods— probably a million shades too dark through the gaze of a Lemurian. At least the outfit is cute? You’ve recreated Rafayel’s signature cardigan. The plaid pattern isn’t quite straight, but that was a… deliberate choice. This is your interpretation of his cardigan, and you wanted it to reflect its owner. A little all over the place, but still, you love it. Even when it’s coming undone, it keeps you warm.

“Would you like to go next?”

Zayne is talking to you, smiling at you. He was the first to reveal his gingerbread creation: a miniature Xavier that was surprisingly true to life. Your hunting partner had almost glowed with delight, while you were dark with jealousy. The biscuit sits before you all, boasting details that could only be achieved with an exceedingly steady hand.

Worse: Rafayel’s gingerbread is next to it, stupidly, predictably perfect. It’s Zayne. It’s really Zayne, from the sweep of black hair to the hazel eyes; how on earth did he manage to make that colour? The tiny doctor is dressed in his lab coat, sporting his badge and a pocketful of even tinier pens and medical instruments. There’s… shading? Ugh, you can see the creases in the fabric.

“Umm… sure, I can go next,” you mumble.

It was just your luck, pulling Rafayel’s name out of that hat. Sheepishly, you move aside the cookbook you’d stood to guard your project from any prying eyes. Your gingerbread is nudged forwards.

“That’s me!” Rafayel exclaims.

“Yeah…” you confirm half-heartedly. “Sorry, I know it’s not great, but I—”

Lack the skill of a celebrity artist, or the steady hands of a cardiac surgeon? You have no idea which exact pool of self-pity your sentence was set on drowning within, but it doesn’t matter. Rafayel has plucked your gingerbread up for a closer look, and his smile is enormous. “This is amazing!”

“You don’t have to—”

“That’s my cardigan!” He’s crashing the pity party again. “And look at my eyes— the colours! This little guy is so handsome, yeah? You really did me justice, cutie. Look at him!”

He holds the gingerbread up to his face, trying to match its two-dimensional grin. He looks around for affirmation, and it’s just his luck, because is a single man at this table ever going to insult your hard work?

“The eyes are amazing,” Xavier enthuses. “Like the sky at sunset. Who knew my partner was so talented?”

“I did,” Rafayel chirps happily.

Xavier frowns. “No, it was rhetori— never mind.” He smiles at you. Rolls with it. “I knew too, by the way.”

“As did I,” Zayne adds.

Everyone looks at Sylus, who shrugs a shoulder and says, “It was up for debate.”

“Can we please move onto the next person?” you press. This is all too much attention. “Sylus, can you… please?”

He does like it when you beg, but he likes it even more when he can play knight in shining armour. “My pleasure, sweetie.”

For a man whose creative side is mostly indulged by vintage gun restorations, he reveals his gingerbread with a staggering amount of confidence. It’s placed at the centre of the kitchen island, where you all stare down at it. Its hair is snow-white, and its eyes: blood-red.

“That’s…” Zayne begins.

“That’s you, Sylus!” you take-over, voice shrill with betrayal. “You were supposed to say something if you picked yourself! And you— wait, what are…?” There are distinct lines over the gingerbread’s midriff. It dawns on you: “Are those abs?!”

Sylus shrugs again.

“They so are!” You snatch up the biscuit, standing to wave it in Sylus’s face like a crime-scene photo. “Where’s his shirt, huh?”

“He lost it.”

“Bullshit!” you snap. This gingerbread competition had come with its own set of rules, one of which was very clearly: “Nothing obscene! I said nothing obscene, Sylus!”  

He leans away from you with a tut. “It’s tasteful, sweetie. The artist will tell you.”

“The artist is staying out of this,” Rafayel murmurs, off to your side.

Sylus crosses his arms, regardless, as though his case has been made. You cross your arms too.

“Can I show you my gingerbread now?” Xavier asks, and his tone is deceivingly soft: a hand on your shoulder, pulling you back.

You release the tension in your body with a sigh, then set the gingerbread down so you can’t throw it at Sylus’s un-smug face (which he’s been very careful about.) “Of course, Xavier,” you smile, slinking back onto your stool. You can throw something at Sylus later. “Ooh, is it me? It has to be me, right?”

Xavier chuckles awkwardly. “It’s you. I don’t think it’s very good, though.”

“Show me!” you insist.

The final cookbook is removed, and Xavier unveils his hard work. You clamp a hand to your mouth.

You don’t have a single word for what you’re looking at— only laughter, and you can’t let yourself laugh, no matter what. If that gingerbread is you? Then it’s a you who’s been torn apart by Wanderers, at least seven consecutive times. Your face is a swirl of colours and features— you think Xavier must have tried to wipe it off to start again, more than once, but it hasn’t worked.

The gingerbread has been broken, too. Three of the four limbs, to be exact, and that you could forgive, but… did he have to use dark red icing to glue them back on? It drips out of the joins messily, almost making you wince.

Everyone is silent.

“A perfect likeness,” says Sylus.

You burst out laughing, and the moment you do, Rafayel’s right there with you. Even Sylus caves— it’s one of the most sincere laughs you’ve ever heard from him. There are tears in your eyes; you can’t help it. Zayne is the strongest of you, but even the tight line of his mouth quivers. He’s biting his lip.

But it’s fine. Xavier is laughing, too. “I said it wasn’t very good!”

“Xavier!” you wheeze. You can’t even look at him. Your stomach hurts. “What… what happened to me?!”

“What do you mean?” he practically giggles.

“What do I mean?” you repeat, and it tips you into another breathless bout of laughter. You go to point at the gingerbread— all the explanation you need— but it almost kills you. You really can’t breathe. After half a minute, you try again. “I look like I’ve been in an accident!”

“Here,” Rafayel grins, and he slides the Doctor Zayne gingerbread over to poor, suffering gingerbread you.

“Aww!” you smile, having finally caught your breath.

Wordlessly, Zayne retrieves his likeness— pulling it away from yours. You frown at him, as confused and wounded as Xavier apparently imagines you. “Even I have my limits,” the doctor shrugs.

That’s it. You’re gone again, your sides aching as your whole body shakes with laughter. It’s too much. Gods, it’s too much. You’re gonna need another minute.

…

“I can’t believe you made you.”

It’s been fifteen or so minutes, and you toy with Sylus’s gingerbread counterpart, pinching his hands between your thumbs and forefingers— making him walk (well, penguin waddle) across the kitchen island.

“Believe it, sweetie,” Sylus huffs with a smile.

“Is this really how you see yourself?”

Before you can walk the gingerbread any further, his creator plucks him up by his head, away from your reaching fingers. “It’s how I think you should see me,” he chuckles. He holds the gingerbread out to you. Wiggles it. “For your eyes only, kitten.”

“Except the other guys saw it—”

“Shhhh, shh shh!” In his haste to silence you, he almost pushes the gingerbread to your lips.

You glare at him. Complain from behind it: “Get your shirtless abs out of my face, Sylus.”

“Make me.”

You snatch the gingerbread, pinning it down on the counter. “Keep pushing your luck, Sy. Wanna see what’ll happen?”

He absolutely does, and his eyes glint with mirth as you reach for a near-empty bowl of crimson icing. You scrape some of it up with a discarded teaspoon, then let it drip generously over his gingerbread. It takes a few, long seconds to really cover him in it. To make him look as fatally tragic as gingerbread you.

“Here,” you say, dropping the spoon in a bowl with a satisfied clink. You hold out the gingerbread. “This’ll be you when I’m done with you.”

Sylus regards it for a moment, his eyebrow quirked. Then his eyes find your gingerbread likeness. “Want to see what you’ll look like when I’m done with you?”

His hand goes out for the bowl of red icing, except… it goes past the bowl of red icing, and lands on a tube of white icing instead. He holds it up with a smile.

“Inappropriate.”

The tube is swept out of his fingers, and he blinks at the empty space, legitimately surprised.

“It was snow, doctor,” he remarks bitterly, once he’s recovered from the second ambush of the evening. He glances over his shoulder. “From a snowball fight?”

“Sure it was,” Zayne mutters, already turning back to the bowl he’s washing in the sink.

Sylus is frowning, affronted, but the expression softens when you’re filling his gaze again. You: your hands on your mouth, so close to spilling laughter. “Oooooh,” you tease with a secretive sing-song voice, “you got in trouble!”

He wrinkles his nose like ‘trouble’ is an insult. It sets you off sniggering uncontrollably.

“What did I miss?”

It’s Xavier, back from the lounge.

“Nothing,” Sylus answers.

“He got in trouble!” you counteract with a not-at-all quiet whisper.  

You earn a glare from the criminal, and a little laugh from the hunter. “Third-strike trouble?” the latter enquires. He might have handcuffs on stand-by; it wouldn’t surprise you.

“Not yet,” you grin cheerfully.  

Zayne sets a plate on the drying rack. “Give it time.”

…

“I don’t think we have enough, sweetie,” Sylus quips, peeking over the stack of blankets you’ve piled high on his arms. 

What was it Rafayel said? High risk, high reward? You mercifully chuckle. Your arms are wrapped around three, plush cushions— the last of your sleepover supplies. Snacks? Are ready. Guests? Haven’t killed each-other yet. You toe open your bedroom door, shouldering the rest of the way through with your missing puzzle pieces of luxury.

“Oh, nice!” someone exclaims from the kitchen. Xavier is watching you, starry-eyed, and his cheeks are full; he’s midway through a cookie.

Sylus steps through the door behind you, issuing a faint noise of disgust. He sounds like he’s being attacked by a bug, so you turn around, ready to leap to the rescue. He’s stood within the door frame, eyes cast upwards to where a sprig of mistletoe hangs on the end of a string. It’s swaying gently; he must have caught his head on it. You frown, lips parted. He was with you the whole time you were looting your bedroom. When did he…? How did he…?

He looks down at you, the mistletoe still hovering above him. You raise an eyebrow, waiting for the inevitable joke, or the even more inevitable invitation. 

“I…’ he starts gingerly, “I didn’t…” 

Oh. He’s just as confused as you are, and it’s… really cute. He’s lost for words— the man who came here with not one, but four sprigs of mistletoe. The man who threatened your gingerbread with white icing. The man who’s spent the entire evening thinking about how he wants to be close to you.

Sylus laughs, but it’s full of nervousness. “It’s alright,” he says, “you don’t have to—”

You tilt him towards you, your hand on his shoulder and cushions around your feet. “Merry Christmas, Sy,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his cheek. It’s warm on your lips.

His eyes flutter closed. “Merry Christmas,” he breathes, barely more than a whisper. 

You hum contentedly as you pull away from him. When his eyes reopen, they’re warm with a nostalgia you cannot explain, but you can feel, too— so inexplicably. His gaze is blood-red, but it makes you think of flowers. 

What a funny feeling. It strikes you a lot, nowadays, and not just with the man in front of you. 

Speaking of the others, you glance towards your lounge. Xavier is telling Zayne a story, and Rafayel is watching you from over the back of the sofa— turning away when you spot him. That’s one mystery solved. You collect the cushions from the floor, sparing Sylus a smile before you meander back to your party. The coffee table’s a banquet of sweet, sugary snacks, so you carefully skirt past it.

Xavier’s hands grab at air. You laugh and toss him a cushion. “Thanks,” he grins. 

“Here— your favourite.” Zayne is pointing at your freshly-filled mug, and you grin your own thank you as you settle down next to him. 

Sylus soon arrives too, handing out blankets, and for all the evening’s animosity, he gets a grateful smile for each. He sits down next to Xavier, and it’s odd, you know? You’ve slain Wanderers, saved lives with every person around you. You’ve seen them bleed and kill.

They’re all wrapping themselves up, like snuggly little Christmas presents. Xavier’s managed to collect another cushion— from Zayne, maybe?— and he’s practically building a fort on his side of the couch. Some of it infringes on Sylus’s space, and you notice him notice, but he doesn’t say a word. Oblivious, tucked under two blankets, Xavier’s already looking sleepy. 

Someone’s making less of an effort to get comfortable. On the other side of you, Rafayel sits, uncharacteristically quiet. He hasn’t met your eyes since you sat down. You remember him, watching you under the mistletoe from across the room, and the thought has you leaning in closer. 

“That was sweet of you,” you whisper, even though he disobeyed you. 

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” he shrugs.

But he does, so you kiss his cheek, ever so fondly, with that funny feeling in your chest again. It’s the first time, but it doesn’t strike you as such. Uncharted waters, a foreign land— when have I been here before?

Rafayel has relaxed: sunken deep into the sofa and the security of your touch. You smile, pulling his blanket up higher around him— tighter around him— until he’s as much of a cocoon as everyone else. His lips curve with a smile of surrender, ever-willingly captured. Silly fish. 

You draw away from him, readjusting in your seat until you’re cuddled up next to Zayne. You don’t see the wink Rafayel shoots Sylus, or the look of begrudging respect in the latter’s red eyes. 

“Are you comfortable?” Zayne asks, head angling towards yours. 

Co-host to co-host. “Yeah.” You snuggle closer to him. “This is kinda perfect, isn’t it?” He feels cold, despite his Sylus-issued blanket, so you lend him part of yours.

“No,” he confers softly, distractedly. 

“No?”

“No.” He gives you a look, and you know it as intimately as the chill of his hands and the warmth of his heart. His ‘I know something that you don’t’ look. Sure enough, he says: “I think it’s missing something.” 

On the other sofa, Xavier is beaming at you, having caught onto your conversation. It’s suspicious— harmless conspiracy, surprise-party sort of suspicious, but your pulse still picks up. 

“Close your eyes,” Zayne instructs. 

And you do, without question. Darkness, yes, but you’re under his care, aren’t you? There’s no anxiousness in your excitement, just trust for the man who was looking out for you long before he was your doctor. Your hands are over your eyes and you’re younger, again, playing hide-and-seek, again.

Zayne’s is a familiarity you can place. A nostalgia built on memories, not reveries.

Something icy touches your hand, then melts without any resistance. 

“Open,” Zayne prompts, leaning against you to stir you. 

Your apartment has changed again. The lights are all out, save for the fairy lights. The spectrum of colours flicker from the walls and the tree, catching on tiny, white specs in the air. Snowflakes are drifting down, impossibly. Falling, dancing— maybe a bit of both. You look up and some land on your face, cold with their kisses. You giggle in delight. 

Everyone’s gaze is on the ceiling: sapphire, emerald, amethyst, ruby. It ought to be dark. Instead, an entire night sky fills the space above you, scattered with thousands of stars. Every pinprick is deliberate. Meticulously placed. There are constellations— infinite patterns that transcend every life you might’ve lead, and every life you’ll ever lead (if you believe in that sort of thing.)

Xavier glances at you, and you forgo the spell of his masterpiece so that you can glance back. Snowflakes are in his hair, dusting him with sparkles. He smiles in a way you think could defy lifetimes, too. 

“This is… really something,” Sylus says, and there’s not a hint of sarcasm. 

It’s everything. The stars, brighter for darkness. The snow, only novel in warmth. These things don’t always work— they’ll undo each-other, overpower each-other, but there’s an ultimate balance, in-between every conflict. An occasional harmony, and it’s… 

Perfect. 

Rafayel scoots close to you. “Was this authorised?” he whispers. 

You look over to the point board, where there are first strikes beneath Zayne and Xavier’s names, and you don’t know how long they’ve been there. 

“No,” you laugh tenderly. “No, it wasn’t.”

[moonstruckme]

Hi,

I love your writing and your ideas.I was worried if you could write sth about remus as a detectiv. Maby he and reader meet on the job or they are partners.Do whatever you want. Hope this inspires you💗

Hi back! I love this idea and I lowkey thought I was gonna do better with it (I'm less thrilled with the results, sorry) but I hope you like it <3

cw: mention (and some vague flashback) of robbery

detective!Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

Thunder booms, and you flinch. The detective’s eyebrows lift a millimeter. You pull his jacket closer over your wet clothes, embarrassed. 

“Can I make you some tea?” he offers. 

“No, thank you.” 

You sit in silence for a few heartbeats. The detective seems comfortable with it, but you squirm, his gaze too discerning for your liking. The rain you’ve both come in from has slicked a few tendrils of hair to his forehead, the rest fighting valiantly to curl at the ends. His face is scattered with scars you’d expect more from a hardened military type than a cop, and the circles under his eyes hint at more than one long night spent at the station. Nights probably not unlike this one, only a smattering of police around as he interviews you at his desk.

“Officer—” 

“Remus,” he reminds you gently. 

“Right, sorry.” Your voice quiets. Remus’ expression softens, going tender like he wants to reject your apology, but he doesn’t speak. “Don’t you have questions for me?” 

“I do,” he says, “but—I hope you’ll excuse me for saying—you seem rather shaken up.” 

A laugh, short and humorless, puffs out of you. 

“I’m not saying I don’t understand why.” His calm gaze doesn’t leave yours. “Witnesses are generally more reliable once they’ve had a chance to get comfortable, though. Process what they’ve seen.” 

Your fingers twist in the material of his jacket. You wonder if he takes your trembling for a traumatic response. It might be, you don’t know; your heart is hammering, but it’s also just cold in here. 

“How am I supposed to do that?” you ask. 

“Just like this.” One corner of Remus’ mouth lifts, just a little. You think of the classic good-cop-bad-cop routine from TV shows. You doubt they bother doing that with witnesses, but Remus seems so approachable you’re half wondering when his worse half will come in. “Chatting. Coming down from the adrenaline. Letting me get you tea.” 

“I’m really okay,” you say, doing your best to return his small smile. 

Remus’ warms in response. “As you like. Let’s start from the beginning, yeah? We can take breaks whenever you want.” 

You nod, preparing yourself. 

“What were you doing at the supermarket?” 

“I was…shopping?” Your response seems so obvious you turn it into a question unintentionally. Remus’ expression conveys understanding. He leans forward, setting his elbows on the desk casually. 

“I know it seems unimportant,” he says, “but I’m trying to get a full picture. What were you shopping for?” 

“Oh. Um, I was out of peanut butter.” 

“Was it raining when you went in?” 

You frown. He has to know the answer to that; it’s been raining all evening. “Yes.” 

“What did you do once you got there?” 

“I went to find the peanut butter. I was just barely going to the till when I…when the robbery happened.” 

You don’t realize you’ve mirrored Remus’ posture until his finger touches yours. You’re sitting with your elbows on the desk also, your hands millimeters from his. 

“How did you know it was happening?” Remus asks gently. “Did you see it, or was there a sound?” 

“A sound,” you confirm, your voice wavering a bit. The tip of his forefinger brushes against yours again. “The woman at the till shouted.” 

“What made her shout?” 

“I guess because he showed her the knife.” 

“Did you see that as well?” 

“Yeah. But not right then. She’d already opened the till by the time I got there.” 

The images in your head are already hazing over, memory fading into fiction. The way the employee’s short, frightened cry had made you look up from your phone, freezing you in your tracks just outside the refuge of an aisle. The man hadn’t known there was anyone else in the store. That was clear by the way his eyes widened above his surgical mask, swiveling impulsively to point the knife at you, wavering between two targets. The three of you caught together in a mess of panic. 

You don’t remember doing it, but later you found you’d set your jar of peanut butter down on a random shelf, as though that simple offering would appease the robber and save you any further trouble. 

“What was the person with the knife wearing?” Remus asks. 

“He had a blue jacket, like a windbreaker.” You put your chin to your shoulder, feeling the slick material of the jacket draped over your shoulders. A thoughtless, sleepy movement. “Sort of like this one. Without the police logo, obviously.” 

“About how tall would you say he was?” 

You shrug. “Taller than me. He wasn’t huge, but he was…I don’t know, he had a knife.” 

Remus hums, his finger stroking across your knuckle. He must have moved his hand closer without you noticing. “That must have been frightening.” 

You shrug again. 

He lets you stew in another long, heavy silence. Your face begins to feel hot. 

“Are you alright?” he finally asks, softly. 

“Yeah.” You clear your throat. “Sorry. Just, you’re right, it was scary.” 

“You don’t have to apologize.” Remus’ gaze is warm. Compassionate. “I’m sure you’re tired, I don’t mean to keep you here any longer than necessary. You’ve been a big help. If it makes you feel any better, we’ve been following a robber matching this description for a while, and he doesn’t tend to repeat within the same neighborhood. So you shouldn’t worry.” 

Oh, he’s so kind. He thinks you’re all quiet and shy because you need comfort. And of course, you are rattled still, but it’s got a thing or two to do with that low voice, with those lovely, deep hazel eyes that seem soldered to yours. If Remus wants to improve your memory, he should probably stop touching your hand like a Victorian gentleman testing the bounds of propriety. 

“Do you have any more questions for me?” you ask. 

“A few,” he says, apology in his tone. “Are you sure you wouldn't like anything warm to drink? You’re shivering terribly.” 

You feel very warm, actually, but when his finger moves to your second knuckle the shivers worsen. “Um, sure. I’d have a cup of tea.”

[flamingpudding]

I just got done reading the prompt that I asked you about and it's wonderful thank you so much and if you're okay with it I'm here to help you make a part two but if you don't want to do that that's okay I'm just adding some bonus to it.

I'm just imagining Danny full Ghost King attire showing up with two things to cookies one with kryptonite in them cuz I love the head can of ghosts eating good tonight like candy and the other set a normal batch of chocolate chip cookies. Looking down Young Justice being like in the most Patrick electric entity sounding voice with a country accent "I'm so just the cutest oddiest little berries on the bush" (sorry just speaking in my little country Danny headcannon)

But I can also see Danny being embarrassing for Klarion. Danny sit down the two trains of cookies Evan just start hugging and kissing his son on his head like the embarrassing mom he is talking about how he's so skinny and he should eat more. Also really nice to Young Justice it's like them realizing they just might by the end of the day be adopted by enemies mom.

Justice League is getting to the location ready to fight and do what they can just for a Young Justice member with a cookie in hand to walk up and explain and tell them to play along for free cookies.

RedRobin badly wants to try one of the kryptonite cookies to see what it would do if he ate it. Klarion keeps stopping him because as much as he doesn't like them he doesn't want RedRobin to die.

Who I'm just adding on a couple of things really love your writing though oh yeah what are your pronouns so I can know to refer to you as just asking.

So glad you liked it and no problem i don't mind at all. I was thinking about adding a part two honestly. Well then lets continue the shenanigans. I hope this part two won't disappoint either. And out of courtesy for once added people who asked for tags in the comments. Don't get used to it. I usually don't to tags. This is an exception for this awesome prompt idea.

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

The moment a Lazarus green portal started to open in the Living Room, Red Robin suffered a small, probably slightly traumatic, flashbacks to all the times he had seen the Lazarus Pits, but before he could even react Klarion tackled him to the ground with a distinctive hiss of "Play alone." His friends, the traitors, had managed to doge Klarion. Impulse had simple used his speed to step aside and Superboy apparently had headed a warning. Wonder Girl hadn't even been in the path of Klarions tackle. So this was why Red Robin was currently the only one getting sort of wrestled and put into a headlock on the ground in a hold he knew he could easily get out of but was to distracted by the ceiling high, eldritch as well as royal looking being stepped out of it.

The portal closed behind that being and Red Robin swallowed seeing six eyes in inky black that mirrored the night sky blink down at them.

"Klarion?" The static voice ringed in their ears and from the corner of his eyes Red Robin saw Superboy flinch visibly.

"Mom! Your early!" Red Robins head hit the floor as Klarion suddenly let him go to greet the being that's apparently his mother. He glared at the witch boy for that as he sat up and rubbed his had.

"Oh my, sorry my dear." Superboy flinched again, and Red robin could hear Impulse whispering to Wonder Girl if he was the only one seeing four mouths talk at the same time. Klarion appeared to have it heard to as he send them a quick glare over his shoulder before turning back to his mother.

"Mom, could you tune down on the eldritch?" Red Robin blinked stunned before seeing the bing apparently blush green in embarrassment and its form changing until there stood a man, about Red Hoods height still with a floating crown and a royal cape, but at least more human like and resembling Klarion but with more blueish skin before them.

"Sorry baby, I thought my royal appearance would make a better first impression." The man pinched the witch boys cheek lovingly, to witch Klarion whined out a drawn out "Mom."

The four young heroes couldn't help but stare, was that seriously their villain Klarion? The one that tried to cause chaos and make their lives difficult on regular basis?

"Klarion. Why is there a magic barrier around your apartment." The man in royal clothing suddenly asked and they blinked seeing Klarion flinch and laugh nervously. "Oh you know mom, keeping the bonding in one place so other mortals won't be bothered." To which the man cooed. He cooed!

"Bonding? What bonding?" The four heroes echoed blinked and exchanged stunned and confused looks. Bonding? What Bonding? What were they talking about? Sure they hadn't gotten a lot of explanations out of Klarion before that portal opened and apparently his entire act about his mother visiting was the true. It was clear that the witch boy's mother was some kind of other worldly being but it looked like there was more to it. Also considering the royal like outfit and the grown.... did that mean that they had been dealing with a prince of some kind as villain the entire time.

Suddenly the man bristled turning to glare at them back in his eldritch form towering over them. "Are you telling me you mortals have been ignoring my sons bonding?! And that is why my son's bonds don't appear to be properly formed?!"

They flinched back staring at that being that was now back to locking eldritch horror like with a crown and royal cape. Their eyes were locked onto the being, only distantly they realised that Klarion was pulling on his mother hissing something that sounded very much just like static to their ears. It to a while longer but finally the being drew back staring what sounded like a static filled discussion with Klarion and Impulse was pretty sure he had been ready to sully himself if it had taken any longer,

Apparently Klarion and his mother finished their exchanged as they both turned to them, his mom now again more human like looking. "Mom these are my friends. The punk looking guy is Superboy the half alien, Red Robin the one in red and black, you know Dinner boy. Impulse from the Flash-Clan and Wonder Girl one of the Amazonian. Guys this is my mom, Ghost King of the Infinite Realms."

Red Robin couldn't help the eye twitch at his introduction, he also noticed that Impulse flinched back as the mans eyes locked onto him and he didn't need Superboy's confirmation of having heard a grumble about 'why did it have to be a speedster'. Great so this eldritch being, apparently King and most likely a danger and possible hostile did not like one of them already. Why did Klarion ask them to play pretend friends again?

"Well I will be, you have quiet the colourful and oddest batch of fleshy mortals here." The man grinned at them, that were sharp teeth the four heroes observed. "Titles are a bit stuffy, feel free to call me Danny kids. Now come here. I brought some cookies with me."

Before they knew it the four of them were seated on the couch with a huge plate of cookies on the coffee table before them. The four of them blinked at the two kinds of cookies. Impulse was already reaching out to them fearlessly but Wonder Girl had the foresight to stop their friend for the moment. Superboy on the other hand appeared to look quiet queasy and was slowly turning green to the worry of Red robin. They noticed Klarion turning towards his Mom when he took note of this. "Mom! I have a Kryptonian friend! Why did you bring cookies with kryptonite chunks! Look! Superboy is turning green just looking at them."

The Ghost King, now known by the name Danny to them, appeared to be waving his son. "Oh he will be fine in a moment its not enough to completely bother his species, he will just be more human like till you ate all of them. These ones are more for you anyway, you are way to thin lately." Danny then turned to them with a smile. "Please feel free to eat the chuckles chip once. I can guarantee they are human friendly. My sister helped me make them. She is a liminal human."

That was all Impulse needed to rip his wrist free and stuff the first of the chocolate chips cookies into his mouth. "They are good!"

Danny smiled at them satisfied, and with that out of the way started to make small talk with them while also embarrassing his son with occasional comments like. "Oh you should have seen when Klarion first got Teekl." Or "He nearly burned down our entire castle when he started actually learning magic." Or "He used to be such a grumpy adult until he deaged and became such a cute grumpy little baby boy. Want to see photos?"

They never got to see photos to Wonder Girls disappointment. Klarion managed to cut in between suffering embarrassment and glaring at them for encouraging his mother to tell more embarrasing stories and forced the portal, his mother was going to reach into for the photos, to close.

By now the teens have become more relaxed around Danny. The man had a friendly charm to him and genuinely showed an interest in them as well as in the well bing of his son. They could understand why Klarion didn't want to disappoint a parent like that. They snacked on the cookies and Red Robin watched with interest whenever Klarion and Danny reached for one of the cookies with green Kryptonite chunks. Danny had mentioned off handedly in one of his stories of Klarion that they both used to be normal humans. Red Robin was very interested in this right now.

Suddenly Superboy elbowed Impulse and Red Robin, having caught the movement turned to them with an arched eyebrow. "Mentors." The other mouthed to them and they sighed, of course their mentors would show up sooner or later. They shared a glance and Red Robin took on the task to subtitle inform Klarion since they were sitting next to each other when Impulse excused himself to a toilet break shortly.

Red Robin used that quick distraction to reach towards the cookie plate.

Meanwhile Impulse came to a stop in front of the front door stopped by his foot from slamming shut behind him again, thankfully Klarion had removed his magic barrier that could have made this difficult. He had one cookie in hand and grinned up at their mentors and the Justice League Dark members.

"Hi everyone!" He greeted them cheerfully, taking a bite of his cookie.

"Impulse? Are you okay? What happened?!" Flash was instantly on the teen checking him over for any sort of injury. They were prepared to fight since Deadman had reported the location where the Ghost King had appeared. They had chosen to halt their search for the missing teens for the moment but had paled when Superman had mentioned he was hearing their voices from the same location.

"Oh i am fine! Great even. Did you know that there are other dimensions that have melon flavoured chips?" Impulse easily answered grinning. "Also you might wanna dile back on the battle ready aura you guys radiate. Klarions mom is visiting, pretty awesome guy."

"Klarion? The witch boy?" Wonder Woman asked stunned to which Impulse nodded. "Yea, pretty nice guy. Ghost King of a dimension that holds everything together like glue. Kinda badass."

"Bloody fucking..." Batman glared at Constantine who swallowed the rest of his curse. "The hell you mean the Ghost King is badass? That a fucking tyrannical blood hungry war maniac!"

Impulse blinked at them. "Really? I mean he does have scary form that made me nearly piss myself but he is pretty chill. Awesome parent, we get why Klarion loves his mom so much now."

The blond Brite pinched the bridge of his nose letting out a suffering sigh. "Just let us in mate, we will deal with this before our dimension can kiss its arse goodbye."

Impulse appeared to be thinking for a moment before shaking his head. "Uh nope. We are having a good time actually. A nice break. Sooooo no!" Before Flash or anyone else could react impulse stepped back closing the door into their faces. They blinked stunned, Batman was the first to recover stepped towards the door to attempt to open it only for his lockpick to be deflected by a red barrier suddenly appearing. The man growled turning to glare at the Justice League Dark members with a silent comment.

Inside the apartment a little bit earlier....

Klarion snatched another green glowing cookie from Red Robins hands with a glare at the other teen, who only glared back. Danny was watching them amused feeling reminded of himself and Tucker by their interaction. But then his attention turned to Wonder Girl as she asked for another story about Klarions childhood.

A moment later Klarion felt a nudge and looked at Superboy who nudged him across a pouting Red Robin who got another green glowing cookie snatched from him. The witch boy arched an eyebrow when Superboy asked to recreated the barrier to keep their mentors out but did so the moment Impulse was back with them with already three new chocolate cookies in hand as he joined Wonder Girl in fishing for more stories.

[timkontheunsure]

Narcissistic family structures

Guesses about Blitz and Barbie Wire's relationship

Blitz says they used to be soo close, but she's not in the flashback to the circus.

Not the around during Fizz and Blitz performance, or his traumatic flashbacks to the accident. (I'm not counting her not going to Mammon's concert as that was clearly ment to be a date, but both Blitz and Fizz bottled it. Blitz even bought Fizz's ticket).

There could be any number to reasons for that, but I'm going bet on the logical one of + a bit of a twist here.

The invisible child

We've seen Cash set up antagonistic positions for Fizz (a kid who worked for him) and Blitz (his own son).

As Fizz the golden child, with all the conditional love that can be withdrawn if they are less then perfect.

And Blitz as the scapegoat, who is blamed for any and everything that goes wrong.

Cash is a narcissistic, and the most common 3rd child role is the invisible child. Barbie looks she was talented enough to keep her head down around her dad.

Not getting the abuse of the scapegoat, but not getting the attention either. Being neglected by her dad. And childhood neglect can be a risk factor to addiction. Initially it can also be a cry for help, and some of the attention they are lacking too.

I think she's missing from these memories, because she was overlooked generally.

This could go a way to explaining why she as a teenager she's scratched out her Circus tattoo. And flipping off the camera in their act poster. (Blitz has no scars so they have to be younger than 19. We'd probably see his braces if we could see his teeth).

If pre fire her dad has no use or time for her, what use or time does she have for him.

But that's no longer completely true. Barb's back in contact with her dad. (That who Blitz phoned).

And Cash was the one to sign her out of rehab. (Blitz is most likely who checked her in when things got really bad).

Mental health clinics/rehab normally want family to be involved in discharge. So the person has a place to go, and won't be made homeless.

That why Blitz is confused how she could leave without him knowing.

They've also talked since the fire; because she knows the name he's been using the last 5 years.

Which means unlike Fizz; she does know the fire, that killed their mum, was an accident.

But Barbie fall back on toxic family pattern of blaming Blitz when things go wrong.

People who haven't been in these relationships assume the kids will band together against the abuse. But that doesn't happen. They can be close unless the abuser turns up, or till something goes wrong. Like Barbie dose.

Her dealer dies as part of a random accident with a firework, and she immediately screams at Blitz for it. Reverting to his previously name for extra spite.

Then laughs at him for trying to be a family. I mean yes Blitz really should be reading the room here, but she's still going all in as daddy's little girl here.

With how she touches their mum's necklace, and the joint birthday card, and got of other happy pictures; it clear both twins loved their Mumma.

But it seems likely without Fizz, or Blitz; Cash would probably occasionally turn up to captive audience Barbie in rehab. So they could mutually lick wounds, and scapegoat again.

To truly get over an addiction you need to take a hard look at yourself and your trauma; and not just the things that were outside your control.

Because while they can make you more susceptible, ultimately it was normally your choice to rely on that substance. Be that alcohol, cigarettes or opioids.

(There are cases of showbiz parents force their kids to take substances. But don't know if that Barbie or not).

And I'm not sure Barb's taken that look yet at herself yet. The nurse who's takes odd delight in first blocking access to Blitz visiting Barbie, and then telling him she left months ago saying something pretty interesting. (Perfectly fine to block who you want from hospital, but the nurse is being strangely gleeful).

She calls Blitz a deadbeat. Which doesn't really make sense. Blitz is Barbie's brother. He's not the parent to her. He isn't responsible for Barb's bills, or care. She's an adult who seems to want honest work, (good for her🙂).

But that would definitely be how Cash would see it. Narcissis see children as tools to be used for the good of the narcissist.

This tells us that Cash has been at rehab frequently enough to charm the nurse on side. Instead of her trying to get Barbie to take a fuller look at herself, and her actions.

Unfortunately invisible child are more likely to be roped back in by narcissistic parents; if they get shown some of that attention they've craved when small.

I'm hoping that the longer she's out the less contact Barbie's going to have with Cash. With more of a life she'll no longer be as useful to Cash's ego.

And she didn't appear to tell him about her job with the chemists... Though that come be wasn't paying attention? Blitz does ask if Cash even asked... I'll cross my fingers that she gets to work things out alone for a wee while.

Basically all this is to say I buy that they were close pre fire. I buy Barbie, Blitz and their mum having a good relationship.

But I can't see a world were Barbie would feel secure enough to risk sticking her neck out for Blitz.

She's too much ingrained in the dinamic that things going wrong are Blitz fault.

Yep could end up being wildly wrong, but her being missing from the flashbacks, and being the invisible child would just kinda work for me. 🙂

[psychopomp-namine]

(yingdu episode 4 spoilers)

as of YE4, here's my understanding of the timelines so far. this is just from lu guang's time hopping experience. I still think time itself might be broken. years still don't line up, things happen in the incorrect months, etc. we are not fixing those. we're just looking at lu guang's diving points, and how we got from S1 to yingdu then back to S1 again.

the important things we learned from YE4 are:

lu guang was supposed to meet liu xiao somewhere else (not the bridon airport)

vein kills cheng xiaoshi some time after the doudou case, but before lu guang gets stabbed by red eyes

cheng xiaoshi in S1 did not discover his abilities through the yingdu event

possible timeline of events

original timeline (timeline A) happens. presumably, the overseas trip still happened and cheng xiaoshi discovered his dive ability there with lu guang by his side. house of the hotheaded probably were not messing around back then.

potentially, though not certainly, cheng xiaoshi dies at some point (not due to vein) and lu guang dives back in time to prevent this. this could happen once or multiple times (timelines A-1 to A-n). I don't actually think this is the case. I think vein killing cheng xiaoshi is the first time he dies, because lu guang gives a lot importance to 091305. however, I'm open to the possibility that cheng xiaoshi could've already died before vein got to him (I'm thinking of the many injured xiaoshis in the XƎTЯOVerthink video, so this bullet point is just to cover those possibilities).

at some point, lu guang is able to reach the first half of season one events (timeline B, potentially still timeline A). for the sake of this post, let's call it timeline B. they do the emma case*, the ouyang case, and the doudou case, among many others. they have NOT done the xu shanshan case yet. or if they have, they did not do any of the liu min-related plot yet.

by now, either in this timeline or in previous ones, lu guang has already met liu xiao. (YE4 lu guang suggests that they weren't supposed to meet liu xiao in the airport, so they must have met somewhere else).

the date is september 13, 2021. still in timeline B (season one first half), someone enters the time photo studio as a client. later on, vein kills cheng xiaoshi and qiao ling. and xiao li too, I guess?

lu guang may have dived at least twice to try to prevent this specific event, but still failed (timeline B-1 and B-2) (this is just to cover the animation discrepancies in the vein attack). it'a also possible qiao ling died in these timelines instead of in timeline B, as a result of lu guang trying to change things.

at some point, he dives into the sunset photo he took during the time he met cheng xiaoshi at the basket ball court. the year is 2019, somehow, instead of 2018. we now enter the yingdu timeline (timeline C). house of the hotheaded trio are messing around, cheng xiaoshi discovers how to dive for the first time alone (without lu guang). lu guang is tired, traumatized, and has no control over these changes.

this one is speculation, since we don't know how yingdu ends yet. but I think it's highly likely that lu guang will dive one more time to burn the bridon photo (timeline D) so cheng xiaoshi wouldn't have to experience yingdu arc.

screenshot from this pv.

it's important that cheng xiaoshi avoids yingdu for S1 to happen (again).

because lu guang avoids yingdu arc, cheng xiaoshi learns about his dive ability later in life, post-university, likely through lu guang himself so he could control the situation. we see this in both his nightmare in YE4 and cheng xiaoshi's flashback in S1E6.

this would also explain how cheng xiaoshi in S1 didn't know he could clap by himself into a photo until S1E9, since he had always assumed he needed lu guang to activate his powers.

and finally, this would also explain how cheng xiaoshi still doesn't know what happened to his parents. he believes they'll still come back one day, which is why he refuses to move out of the shop.

cheng xiaoshi and lu guang still go to some overseas trip (qiao ling mentions this in the doudou arc) but it's not clear if they still went to yingdu. maybe they went to a different country? or another set of events happen instead of what we saw in yingdu?

the year is 2021. we re-enter the events of season one, but this time from timeline D. but with drastic changes, because lu guang isn't the only one messing around with timelines, apparently.

some changes in timeline D from timeline B:

in april, someone spied on the time photo studio trio and created dossiers/files about them. most likely candidate is liu xiao.

*emma's case should've happened in september (during the third fiscal quarter), but it happens in april. it's up in the air if emma still died in timeline B or not, and if the liu siblings were involved originally or just now in timeline D. if emma did die originally in timeline B, cheng xiaoshi might not have noticed yet before vein killed him. also, I think it's interesting that in S1E1 lu guang said, "you didn't do anything stupid, right?" when he saw emma's death on the news. he was asleep when cheng xiaoshi sent the text, so he wasn't able to keep him in line during that particular moment of the dive. did cheng xiaoshi send the text in timeline B?

doudou's case, which they also previously solved by september (since they solved it before cheng xiaoshi's death via vein), is now solved in october. in the grand scheme of things, this one is actually... fine? doudou has been kidnapped for three years so it's not time sensitive when they save him a month early or later. how they found out the case may have been different in the two timelines though. it's possible the dad just found the time photo studio a month later than usual. why though?

lu guang also somehow avoided the vein attack node in this timeline.

new events take place in timeline D that lu guang hasn't done before: xu shanshan case that leads to red eyes, and the entirety of season 2. lu guang gets stabbed and he thinks, for a moment, that maybe he really can change a death node with this event. this should take them all the way to december 2021 or january 2022 (most of S2 happened in october, then they spent two months in the hospital after the tunnels).

if the above events are correct, there are four open-ended questions left:

I am not entirely sure, but I am open to the possibility that there's another dive that happened during season 2 (did lu guang ever use his hospital picture from the episode hostage?)

which of these dives does the S2 finale dive refer to?

there is one mystery that I don't know where to place yet: someone is clearly diving as cheng xiaoshi during yingdu arc (timeline C). we don't know how, or who (we assume it's cheng xiaoshi for now, because that's the simplest answer, but that's not confirmed. we just know his eyes are gold in the vivian case). if so, why? yingdu shouldn't have led to S2 because YE4 implies that it's important that S1 cheng xiaoshi did not discover his dive powers in yingdu. so why dive back to the yingdu timeline? does the yingdu arc function like season 1, where we'll revisit these scenes again in another timeline? why? I wonder if this is how lu guang decided to get rid of the photo.

as always: why is time broken? 2018 is now 2019. april is september, and now september is october.

mmmkay lmk if I missed anything else. but yeah, I think lu guang must've gone through the first half of S1 twice already. I wonder how far along cheng xiaoshi was in his character arc when he died. if he did the earthquake arc by then, he should've started his journey of accepting "past or future, let it be."

[autumnmobile12]

Endeavor: Physical Strength vs Emotional Strength

Or The Total Mess that is the Todoroki House.

*Note:  The following is not a defense of Endeavor nor is it excusing his actions.  It is a deep-dive analysis into the complexities and nuances of his behavior and how it affected his life and everyone else in that family based on observations I’ve made throughout the series. There are also comparisons with other objectively violent characters from other series.

Trigger Warning for domestic and child abuse.

...

We're gonna start out by looking at what happened to his character over the available time frame. Endeavor did not start out as a violent person to his family. We can see that in the flashbacks of the family's early days.

Starting here, note that he’s not cold toward Rei in this scene.  The way they’re walking around out here in the garden gives the impression that negotiations between him and Rei’s family are going well so far, but they’re out walking and talking in private just to make sure this arrangement is going to work and making sure further negotiation isn’t going to be a waste of everyone’s time.  I say this because if he was dead set on ice powers for this Quirk marriage, Rei probably wasn’t the only option.

It's also important to remember Rei did choose this. She chose for her family rather than herself, but it wasn't her parents' end all be all decision. (And maybe there was familial pressure on her side, but it's not explicitly stated in canon so exactly how much free will Rei actually had is up for interpretation.)

However what I think shows here is they weren’t really talking all that much. Specifically, he is not ‘talking down to her.’  He is not treating her with any particular disrespect or putting her down as inferior.   He doesn’t have the arrogance he later exhibits. This also isn’t him being aloof and ignoring her either.  Look at his face, specifically his eyes.  That is the same blank, deer in the headlights, “I have one brain cell dinging around in my head that is struggling to find a way to interact with people,” stare he shares with Shouto.

He has no idea what to say to her. 

So finally, Rei turns off to the side to admire the garden, and he asks, “Do you like the flowers?”  It’s a small thing, but it does show that in some capacity, he did show some interest in Rei and making her happy.  He’s just stupidly awkward about it at this point. (Even if his ultimate goal was…well, we’ll get into that.)

But this trait of never knowing what to say is a massive defining part of Endeavor’s character that has manifested in a myriad of disastrous ways throughout his entire arc.

Now I don’t think there’s enough shown about Endeavor and Rei’s relationship that we can conclusively say they ever loved each other at any point, but I do think they were, at the very least, cordial in the beginning.  They got along, they loved their children, and that in their minds was good enough for them. If you look at the scenes that are Touya and Fuyumi's early childhood, the family seems content. There's no sign of the abuse we see later.

The other big indicator that Endeavor was not originally a violent person to his family is the two very different ways he approaches training with Touya and Shouto. His motive for training them hasn't changed, but compared to the warmth and pride extended toward Touya we see in the above picture, Shouto’s experience with training in the second screenshot is harrowing and traumatic.

So why the difference?

A big reason is it has to do with age.  When Rei defends Shouto, telling her husband that, “He’s only five!” and Endeavor is still pushing their son to achieve the standards of an older child, yes, this does show his impatience. However, the other unspoken sentiment here is he himself is not getting any younger.  When Touya was born, Endeavor was twenty-two and had his whole life, career, and all his hopes with it ahead of him.  His kid has a greater Quirk than his, his legacy is secure, nothing to worry about.  But then they learn about the genetic issue with Touya’s Quirk.  He can’t use his fire safely, he’ll never be able to use it safely, and he will never be a hero in the way Endeavor can.

Touya:  Failure

Fuyumi:  Failure

Natsuo:  Failure

Shouto was probably viewed as his last chance.  Endeavor was getting older and running out of time.  If Shouto didn’t work out, then this legacy was dead in the water. At least, I hope Shouto was the last chance, otherwise he might've tried getting another kid out of Rei, divorced Rei and married someone else for the same reason, or attempted securing his successor through a grandchild.

Which is some freaky medieval way of thinking.

Anyone else getting Henry VIII vibes here?

Remember what I said about him never knowing what to say? The most obvious example of this is his complete and total inability to control the situation with Touya.

The tragedy of both Touya and Fuyumi's characters is they are the only two kids in the house who remember the happier childhood, and they both cling to that in their own way. It's why Fuyumi is so determined to 'fix things.' She's trying to regain the family they lost. For Natsuo and Shouto, things have always been bad in the house, hence why Natsuo bailed as soon as he could.

Then we have Touya. His flashbacks start with him at a toddler age. It is very common and normal for a child that young to prefer one parent over the other, but usually it's the parent they're most familiar with: The one that stays home with and takes care of them. Remember, to a toddler, everything is new and potentially scary, and that can also include a parent that is not always present: The parent that's working. In the Todoroki house, Endeavor has his career as a hero, so we have the indication that Rei was the parent who stayed home. In that situation, the probability of Rei being the 'familiar parent' was more likely, so for Touya to prefer his father over his mother shows just how close he was to Endeavor. Or because Fuyumi was the new baby and needed more attention, he could have gravitated away from Rei and gone to his father instead. He didn't see his father's ambitions for him. He didn't see that he was a successor as opposed to a son.

What he, through a child's innocence, saw and understood was that his father loved him and wanted to spend time with him.

Cue the genetic disparity of his Quirk: Where Endeavor failed as a parent was him never talking to Touya about what had happened. He didn't sit down with him and explain it wasn't safe for him to use his Quirk.

The My Hero world has a social problem of Quirks defining one's worth. It's not just the PLF's philosophy. Having no Quirk is viewed with pity and having a Quirk that can't be used could be viewed as a disability by this society, regardless of the fact it's completely possible to live a healthy life without having a Quirk. So Touya's 'issue' required compassion and understanding, especially from a parent. What Endeavor needed to say and what Touya needed to hear was, "This is a path that is blocked to you, it isn't your fault this happened, and I will love you regardless."

Instead, he just dropped him completely. (Given his character, I doubt he's even the one who broke the news to him.) In Touya's eyes, he didn't have the adult nuance to understand why he was being ignored; he just had the child innocence of, "I don't want to hang out with Mom and Fuyumi, I want to be with Dad. Why is he ignoring me? Why won't he train me anymore?"

What Touya learned from this is he only has value in his father's eyes as a hero. So he began training himself to be a hero because he was desperate to get that love and affection back. When Endeavor discovers the fact he's been training and burning himself, Touya never apologizes for disobeying him. He just repeatedly says variations of, "I can do this, then maybe you'll finally be proud of me."

Fuck, dude, just tell the poor kid you're already proud of him. That's all he needed to hear.

And Rei does call Touya out on this. She asks him, "Do you want to be a hero because you want to be a hero or are you doing this because it's what your father wants?"

In order words: "Are you doing this because you think it will make your father love you?"

And we come full circle to the 'death' of Touya where he realized, "I was never a son. I was a product."

...

Endeavor never addresses the problem going on under his roof. He handed the problem off to Rei. He didn't know what to say, he didn't know (and still doesn't) how to be a parent, and instead of confronting that lapse in his character, he instead made a coward's retreat back into the safe and familiar territory of being a hero.

This was the catalyst for his violence to his family.

Being a hero means fighting villains.

Fighting villains is often solving problems with violence.

Because he never knows what to say, he didn't know how to properly navigate a complex emotional situation, so he resorted to the only method he knew that worked:

Beat it into submission.

And since we have the previously mentioned signs they were once a happy, normal family, I have a feeling the violence began very suddenly and without warning.

...

To back this up, I'm gonna give a little personal insight here. I used to work in an orthopedic clinic and a lot of injuries that came through were hand injuries due to someone punching a wall out of anger/frustration.  You may think this is fine since they didn’t hit another person and only hurt themselves, but the issue with taking your aggression out on even an inanimate object is you are unwittingly training your brain to associate anger with violence and make it all the more likely for you to lash out violently against another person.

Throughout his career, Endeavor has conditioned himself into this same mindset of repeatedly forging and reinforcing the physical connection of violence with the mental/emotional connection of anger.

Look at this scene from Arcane.

If you haven't seen this series yet, 1.) Get on that. You're missing out. (Don't worry, there's not too many spoilers below.) and 2.) This is Vi and this screenshot is from a scene where she, in a moment of anger and grief, strikes her little sister hard enough in the face to knock her to the ground.

Look at the horror in her eyes when she realizes what she’s done.

Now before and after this moment, we see Vi undoubtedly loves her sister and would die for her. (Season 2 pending...) The first thing she does when they're reunited is hug her and tell her how sorry she is. But Vi has also been a fighter all her life. The sisters grew up in the rough part of town, they had to fight to survive, and they've experienced a violent atmosphere from a young age. We also see that when Vi gets frustrated or angry, she punches/slaps inanimate objects, so she too subconsciously associated violence with intense emotions, and in a moment of blind rage/grief, she failed to dissociate and she hurt her sister.

It wasn't a conscious decision, but it happened nonetheless.

What follows is she walks away from Powder. She doesn't go far, she just puts some distance between herself and her sister to calm down and process what's happened and hopefully find a way to move forward. Only, for unrelated reasons that don't pertain to this topic, she is apprehended by authorities and spends the next 6-7 years in prison, obsessing over her regrets and finding her way back to Powder.

She is never going to forgive herself for this.

I bring this scene up because as far as fiction is concerned, we as the audience do often excuse a character losing their temper and hitting a loved one once. What Vi did was not okay, but because it only happened that one time, nobody is labeling Vi as 'abusive.'

...

So consider the first time Endeavor hit Rei. We don't see it in canon, but with all the indicators of a relatively happy home, I believe that first act of violence was the culmination of these factors:

Endeavor's ongoing inferiority complex with All Might and the frustration in his inability to surpass him, and then projecting that frustration onto his family.

The career of solving problems with violence.

The subconscious association of anger with violence resulting from that career.

I'm also going to throw out the possibility of multiple head injuries incurred from his career playing a role. Traumatic brain injuries can and often do lead to behavioral changes where an individual has trouble managing emotional responses, experiences anxiety, has a shorter temper, etc.

Obviously, none of the above should be treated as excuses (not even the TBI possibility because there's therapy options for that), but they are potential contributors to the pivotal moment of frustration and impatience where Endeavor, like Vi, failed to dissociate and did something he couldn't take back.

Striking Rei is his tea kettle incident. Think back to the awkward moron who didn't have a clue what to say to her when they first met. That young man never thought he would do something like this. That first moment when he hit Rei, I really don't think it was a conscious decision and it may have taken him off guard as much as it did Rei. Like Vi, he probably acted out of blind anger and may have been just as horrified by what he'd done, and I can imagine Endeavor walking away from that to calm down and process that he crossed a line he thought he would never cross.

Unlike Vi, who was going to return to Powder after calming down so she could apologize, beg forgiveness, and move forward, Endeavor is an emotional coward who never knows what to say or how to confront a complex emotional hurtle. So he did the same thing he did with Touya: He retreated from the problem and pretended it didn't exist, and because it was never addressed and he was never held accountable, it only got worse. The lid was off and there was no getting it back on.

I'm not saying there was a definite chance he could have come back from that (that ball was in Rei's court as much as it was Powder's) but Endeavor had a choice:

He could have addressed what he'd done and made amends by submitting to whatever consequence Rei set down for him.

Or he could have rationalized his own twisted justifications for what he did.

He chose wrong.

For another comparison of the violence aspect, I’m also going to bring up Shizuo Heiwajima from Durarara!!, a character who I think flies off the handle far more frequently than Endeavor does.

If you haven't seen Durarara!!, same as above with Arcane.

The nuance of Shizuo is the intense rage he experiences, the violence that follows, and his own inner turmoil. He associates violence with anger, but these are traits that he fully recognizes as detrimental to himself and his personal relationships with other people. He has a temper, he gets violent, he lashes out with abnormal strength and has seriously injured many people.

But the people he's attacked are usually people who provoked him, whether it's thugs who opted to harass him on the street or he heard that a friend was in trouble and rushed off to help them. Not that violence is the answer, but they were people who arguably deserved a beating. More importantly, though, is the way Shizuo treats his relationships with caution. He's a loner by choice. He does want to connect with other people, but he keeps his distance because he legitimately fears harming someone he cares about. Because of his caution and self-awareness, he is a complicated and likable character that I think anyone with a short temper who has said or done things they regret can relate to.

If he didn’t have that level of control on himself and was violent with everyone regardless of who they were to him, he would be despised by the fandom as much as Endeavor is.

This is how Durarara!! can get away with presenting a violent character in a comedic fashion. Shizuo, despite his temper, is an absurdly strong guy, a little bit of an idiot, and fiercely loyal to his friends. All three of those are endearing qualities.

And in the right framing, Endeavor's violence is also presented as comedic.

This scene is funny, but grabbing Hawks like that and lifting him off the ground is technically assault and it is intimidation. Replace Hawks with Rei and this scene changes drastically from funny to very unsettling. Replace him with Touya and it's a fight.

...

Where Endeavor really differentiates from Vi and Shizuo is marked by two important factors:

Shizuo, for all his claims at being unable to control his anger, has it very much under control around the people he cares about. He really only lets loose against a perceived threat.

Vi mostly has that same control even though she lost it for a moment, but she was also separated from her sister in an indirect punishment for her actions.

Endeavor does not have Shizuo's restraint nor did he face any immediate consequences like Vi.

Which brings us to Rei.

I have mixed feelings when it comes to Rei, and the absolute harshest opinion I have of her is that she is pathetic and she failed her children. And I know that's a very black and white, cold-hearted view, but hear me out because it's a lot more complicated than that.

Endeavor is ultimately responsible for his own actions, but Rei also had the option to deal with the problem when it started. When he started hitting her, she could and should and have taken the kids and run as fast as she was able and not looked back. No amount of financial security, family appearance, or whatever justification one finds in this scenario is worth it. She should not have tolerated that abuse against herself and she definitely should not have subjected her children to that. While there's nothing conclusive to say Endeavor was physically harming any of the kids aside from Shouto, not fighting for her autonomy/safety was inadvertently teaching all four of them this is how men treat their wives, women are supposed to tolerate this treatment, and a marriage like this is 'normal.'

And in the end, she straight up abandoned her children. We see from Shouto's point of view right before she attacked him with the tea kettle. She's talking to her mother on the phone, saying she 'can't take it anymore' and she just wants to 'run away from this life.' Well...considering she goes on to spend the next ten years in a psych ward and left her children to her abusive husband...she did get what she wanted. Ten years and she really didn't put any more effort in trying to get back to them? She knew Endeavor was hurting her youngest. Going home and protecting her babies should have been her priority. For a long time, I legitimately thought she was in Fujiya because she was considered unsafe to rejoin society whether she was a danger to herself or to others. When she shows up in Endeavor's hospital room, I stared at the screen and thought, "The fuck? She could discharge herself at any point?"

All right, now that I've gone over my hard-line point of view, let me dial back the judgment and consider what else is going on here:

Rei is a refrigerated character.

She has very little characterization beyond her abuse and being the victimized mother in Shouto's story, so we don't know all that much about her. In all fairness, her oldest son suddenly dying while she was hospitalized certainly would have contributed to her downward spiral and account for her prolonged hospitalization.

She tolerated her abuse longer than she should have, but it is possible:

She learned that from her own parents. Tolerating abuse is often a byproduct of generational trauma. Maybe her father treated her mother the same way and she grew up thinking this was normal.

Maybe the first time Endeavor hit her, she rationalized it into a point of acceptance where she told herself that everything was fine and that it was only the 'one time' and it wouldn't happen again, a sentiment she kept repeating every time it happened.

Maybe she was raised to believe ‘the man of the house is always right,’ and that is a mindset that is hard to break if instilled from childhood.

Her parents certainly didn’t seem all that supportive with what was going on, but we also don’t know how much she told them. We don't even know if that one phone call she had with her mom was the first time she reached out for help after years of pretending everything was fine or if this was was something she was repeatedly updating her parents about and those parents chose to be aloof to it.

Maybe she really did grow up in a loving home and just didn't know what to do when confronted with the violent relationship she found herself in.

Maybe she was gaslit into believing it wasn't abuse.

Maybe she really did report the abuse and the godforsaken, root-of-all-evil Safety Commission told her, "Your husband's a hero. Stay quiet and don't ruin that public image." Basically told her to suck it up. That is also a possibility, and one I think could be the most likely, but the series doesn't really go into just how corrupt the Commission was, so we're in headcanon territory.

Maybe she did try to take the kids and run but failed to get away. (Unlikely since it’s never mentioned in canon.)

Not everyone is fortunate enough to have an upbringing that instills the belief, 'if your partner hurts you, they are dead to you' and not everyone has the good fortune of a reliable support network that can help them recognize a bad situation and get them out of it.

Given how well-known Endeavor is to the public, maybe Rei was afraid no one would believe her about the abuse. "A hero would never do such a thing. She's making it up for attention. Her family was poor, so she must be a gold-digger trying to screw over her hero husband in the divorce proceedings."

There is also the important fact that Japan has a social stigma against divorce. Persevering for the sake of family stability and maintaining an ideal appearance is a deeply ingrained cultural norm, which does introduce a troubling power imbalance between a husband who works and a housewife who doesn't have her own independent income. We also have to remember that Rei and her family were financially dependent on Endeavor, so she may have feared the monetary fallout at the prospect of leaving him. Also, with the popularity of the hero ranking system, the No. 2 Hero's wife divorcing him would have been very public and potentially humiliating for all involved.

And we can’t ignore the fact that Endeavor systematically broke her down into a shell of a person who couldn't see a way out of her situation and was tormented to the point she had a psychotic episode and attacked Shouto, the very child she tried to protect. And this too could have contributed to her prolonged hospitalization if this was the final straw and she viewed herself as a failure of a mother.

Maybe it was a combination of two or several of the above factors.

At the end of the day, abuse is a multi-faceted beast, and just as the abuse comes in many forms, the victim can have any number of reasons for staying in their situation.

So even though I have my harsh opinion of Rei and I think she should have done more to protect her children, I do 100% sympathize with her. She is a victim and she in no way deserved what she went through.

But while her inaction wasn't the cause of the crisis in her family, it was definitely a contributor to how badly it got out of hand because whatever the reason Rei didn't expose Endeavor or try to take the children and leave him, that lack of accountability opened up the opportunity for him to rationalize his own twisted justifications for his actions.  “It’s fine. She deserved it because ______. She was 'acting out.' She was overreacting. She doesn't know what she's talking about.”  Whatever he needed to tell himself to believe he didn’t do anything wrong even though he knew he wasn’t fooling himself or anyone.

She didn't stand up to him. Their children couldn't stand up to him.

So he continued the physical abuse unchecked.

...

Moving on into the redemption arc.

After the Kamino Incident, Endeavor finally, finally, finally got that vaunted No 1. Hero spot he'd been chasing for two decades. But he didn't earn it the way he wanted to by proving he's the best of the best. All Might retired, so he won by default.

And then he finds it's just one spot further up on a ranking system that means absolutely nothing in the grand scheme of things. So he looks back at what's really important and he sees the charred skeleton frame of a house he burned down.

One institutionalized wife

One dead son

One daughter who clings to the memories of a happier home

One estranged son

One son who only has a use for him as a teacher and not a parent and will probably drop him the second he no longer needs him

In spite of everything, I do genuinely think the man deserves some credit for at least being willing to make an attempt at reconciliation. Not a lot since he dug that hole himself, but let's face it, a lot of lesser people would have looked at that mess and thought, "Fuck it, no going back now," and continued business as usual. So the question becomes:

Is Endeavor trying to redeem himself out of a need to make himself feel better about everything he's done or is he truly doing it for the benefit of the people he's hurt?

I tentatively think/hope could be a mix of both--I believe there is a part of him that cares about his children--but it definitely skews more toward making himself feel better because there's never a moment before the redemption arc begins where he's isolated, thinking back on everything, and just has the appropriate, "What have I done?" revelation. If his remorse was genuinely all about his family, we would have had that 'crying in the hospital scene' a whole lot sooner.

I think if Horikoshi wanted to portray Endeavor's redemption as genuine remorse for what he did to his family, I think he would have put more of a focus on Endeavor actually seeing the impact of what he'd done and feeling the inner turmoil and regret. Not just Natsuo's anger but also seeing firsthand Shouto's isolation and complete lack of social skills as a result of his training or having a conversation with Fuyumi where she admits she never wants to marry or have children because she doesn't 'want to risk ending up like Mom.' Seeing the effects of his behavior, realizing it's his fault.

So no. While there may be a part of Endeavor that loves his children (or he tells himself that he does), his wanting to atone is inspired mainly by his self-worth. He realized the ends did not justify the means and he tries to fix it.

But either way, how does he go about it?

The biggest change he makes toward earning forgiveness is to his hero career, which tracks with his character. That's familiar territory, so it's easier for him to navigate. He takes a significantly gentler method of teaching/mentorship with Shouto and he tries a kinder approach with his fans. That's progress, but it's still avoidance of the main issue that is the rift he caused with the other members of the family.

His relationship with Fuyumi doesn't have much friction. Fuyumi clings to their family's happier memories. With Touya gone, she was the only child who could remember a childhood without fighting parents, abuse, and suffering siblings. In a twisted way, this is something she and Touya have in common. So it makes sense that she would be the one who's the most receptive to Endeavor's attempts to be a better father. She sees this change as their best chance at being a normal family again. Like Touya, she wanted her father back.

Natsuo is different. He was 3-4 years old when the toxicity in their household really began to spike and when the violence started. Incidentally, this is also when memory cells in the brain start to fully develop and form concrete memories. Compared to his older siblings, the abuse is all he knows and that is why he's the child who left and went low-contact. The only thing Natsuo's really done wrong is start family drama when there's company over for dinner. I mean, c'mon. That's just rude. Don't do that in front of guests.

While Endeavor makes attempts to better his training methods/fan interaction, what he doesn't do is call a family meeting to discuss things, not that this would have resolved anything by a long shot, but it would have established a baseline of where everyone in the family was at and whether or not forgiveness was even on the table at all. It is an extremely arrogant thought for Endeavor to think forgiveness for something of this magnitude is possible, and if he wanted to seek forgiveness (or to atone, whatever the hell that means) for the lifelong mistreatment of family, he should have been more prepared for the most abject, humble groveling to the people he wronged that he could manage.

He should have admitted to his mistakes and faults, laid out everything he'd done wrong, apologize for that as best he could, then express he wanted to repair their relationship and be a family again while also acknowledging that he understands if that is not possible. Lay down that groundwork, maybe be open to family therapy so that a professional third party can act as a mediator and provide impartial guidance, figure out where the boundaries are, acknowledge he can't give them back their ruined childhoods but he can *insert anything Fuyumi, Natsuo, and Shouto ask as recompense, even if it's just leaving their lives forever*, and listen for once to what his family is saying.

Instead, he tries to have normal conversations with his children as if nothing bad ever happened. He offers to come watch Shouto's remedial training like that's a totally ordinary thing for him to do. He tells Natsuo during the family dinner that he would like to try his cooking some time. That is a good olive branch! There is nothing wrong with saying that, but without that prior baseline conversation, it comes off as contrived and that's how Natsuo interpreted it. He sends flowers to Rei, also a good signal to send, but he should have done the the uncomfortable thing and contacted her through her physician to see if she's open to meeting with him for a conversation or sending her a letter she could choose to open at any time (or send back unopened.) That would have established that same baseline and helped move forward towards the atonement he wanted.

But he does the same thing he always does: He pretends the real issue just doesn't exist and he tries to control the situation to suit him.

Why?

Say it with me: He never knows what to say! He can't navigate complex emotions!

He doesn't try to find out if his family is even willing to forgive him, frankly because he's an emotional coward who doesn't want to hear the answer.

However, we cannot say he has no character development at all.

There is one thing worth noting around this point in the plot that I think is important to recognize. If Endeavor ever had any character development that was in favor of his redemption, it was when Natsuo was kidnapped and nearly killed, and it's not because he ran and hugged him in the street.

In this scene, he admits to Natsuo that his actions might as well have killed Touya.

This is a small thing, but it's also huge because you have to consider that up until this time, Endeavor has been gaslighting himself into believing it was Touya's fault for getting himself killed or Rei's fault for not doing as she was told and watching him. He could even have been irrationally blaming All Might for just being a barrier to his goals. Any warped excuse and justification he could think of to escape the blame.

It's not a lot, but he did finally give voice to the guilt that he is the reason he failed and his child died. He finally acknowledged that the blame lies squarely with him and no one else, and acknowledging he drove Touya to his own death means way more than just talking about his intentions to atone.

He took accountability here, at least within the family.

That is one point he's earned. We as the audience can begrudgingly concede that one.

But this progress is again stalled when Endeavor makes the decision that it would be best for his family if he distances himself from them. He chooses to build another house for them where they can all live together with their mother and away from his shadow.

The initial reaction I had to this decision was, "Okay, your solution is kicking them out of the only home they've ever known?" But then I considered that having those kids leave a house where they lived through a traumatic and stressful childhood was a good call. Natsuo already bailed, after all. And then there's Fuyumi... Yeah, you know what, maybe a conversation would have been appropriate here. Instead of finding out what they want, he goes and decides it for them like he always does.

Touya has a genetic disparity that prevents him from using his Quirk safely? Endeavor decides he shouldn't be a hero, disregarding any possibility of finding a potential workaround.

Shouto finally uses his fire at the Sports Festival? Endeavor has his whole speech that pretty much shows he has Shouto's entire life planned out after graduation.

He wants to do what's best for his family? He decides what's best for them.

And we're back to the big dumbass never knowing what to say and still running away from the main issue by making assumptions and decisions without actually considering the thoughts/opinions of the people around him and controlling the situation to his benefit.

He may have his intention to do better, but he has no idea what he's doing. He doesn't know how to relinquish his authority role.

And then we have Touya with his, "Bitch, you thought!" grenade. Or is it a nuke?

It's important to note is that failure to articulate emotion in a healthy way is a trait that is shared by all of the Todoroki family members.

Endeavor - the emotional coward who resorts to violence when confronted with an uncomfortable situation

Rei - the passive mother

Fuyumi - the peacekeeper and people-pleaser

Shouto - the child who was systematically deprogramed into an angry husk imitating his father that he has only recently started to recover from

Touya and Natsuo are the only two who actually have some pushback against the bullshit in their family. Touya's a whole kettle of insane fish who's warped psyche deserves a character analysis of its own, but the point is, even as a kid, he doesn't creep around his father or try to make peace with him. Natsuo also has no problem calling out Endeavor for everything that went wrong in his childhood, plus he moved out and went to college as soon as he could.

Touya - the unstable sociopath who shares his father's tendency to violently lash out while stuck with the mental fragility of his mother

Natsuo - the traumatized avoidant

Neither of them have a functional way of dealing with their issues. (In fact, Touya is so unhinged about it that the door has peaced out and is halfway down the street.)

Endeavor wanted to atone for what he did...by burying and not actually taking any real accountability until the unavoidable moment Touya is screaming down to him, "Is it because you became No. 1 that you finally paid attention to your family?"

Touya has a warped view of the world brought on by years of trauma, but he hit the nail on the head.

Endeavor's main motivation for atonement is for the self-satisfaction.

So we have the symbolism of Endeavor, who has always used his physical strength to solve his problems by beating them into submission and used his intimidating height to glare down at everyone beneath him, and then we have Touya standing on top of a mountain, shouting down. Endeavor's in a position where he's looking up at his dead child, who is arguably the broken bough, elephant in the room, core unavoidable reason a full atonement was never going to be possible, bringing about a twenty-year overdue reckoning.

And he once again doesn't know what to say.

As the story ends, this is where we leave him: Crippled, looking up at his dying child, and confronted by one of the lives he ruined. By choice, he's going to sit here and face what he did. These talks are not going to be pleasant. I doubt Touya is so burned out and exhausted that he doesn’t have the heart to spit out more of the lifetime of vitriol he’s built up.

I know a lot of fans were disappointed Horikoshi didn’t kill Endeavor off in the end, but I personally prefer to look at it this way:

Some characters deserve death.

But some deserve to live in despair.

...

To revisit Arcane, I think this quote neatly sums up Endeavor.

[shycloudkitty]

His Sweetest Escape

Summary: Leon returned from a mission. Safe but exhausted and traumatized as hell. He doesn't want to drown in the suffocating thoughts of survivor's guilt. He wants an escape. And you were always his sweetest escape.

Pairing: RE6 Leon Kennedy! × Fem! Reader 

Tags: (NSFW 18+), MDNI, FWB relationship, Angst at first, talking about Leon's trauma (necessary for the plot), Oral (f receiving!), Cunnilingus, fingering, sitting on Leon's face, nipple play, Leon being a tease. A bit ooc? Probably. 

A/N: Hello Guys!!! My FIRST smut fic is here🤭. Yes I know…FWB again, but I just really wanted to write a smut fic with that trope😭. Also I am very serious about minors not interacting with this post. Please don't.

(Edit) : This can be considered a sort of rough prequel to Just a little touch. Cause for a prequel I have something else cooking up🤭

Hope you enjoy this and have a good day!! 😊😊

A huge thanks to @elfven-blog and @luniaxi for helping me a lot. A little birthday (belated) present to @nexysworld 🥰

Dividers by: @/cafekitsune

WC: 5.6K

Another mission. Another horde of zombies and tyrants. And dozens and dozens of lives that he wasn't able to save in time. But it was a successful mission or at least that's what he was told by his superiors. 

Leon tiredly pushed open the door to his apartment and deeply sighed as he slowly entered and closed the door behind him. 

It is said that a home perfectly reflects people's personalities. The things there give bits of how a person lives and wants to live, their likes and dislikes and much more. 

And his cold and empty apartment gave a perfect reflection on who he was. The furniture was there, furnished of course. But that was it. No decorations or signs of someone living there. And that's how he felt he was. A person who had all the features of a normal person but cold and empty on the inside. 

But then again he never found a home. This was just a place to live in. 

Leon found a whiskey bottle from the liquor cabinet and dropped to the couch, groaning as he sat down after a long time feeling his injuries stretch uncomfortably making him wince. Leaning his head back and staring at the empty ceiling, flashbacks of the mission running wild in his mind. Taking a big swig of his whiskey to numb it. Trying to forget everything about that God forsaken assignment. 

Leon kept drinking and drinking till he started to feel a bit numb to it and sighed tiredly to himself and pushed the bottle aside. Allowing himself to get a bit lost in his thoughts and closed his eyes. 

He was so fucking tired of all this fighting, fighting it to no fucking end and never seeing the ray of hope that all of this shit would end one day. Instead it only got worse. And he fucking hated it. 

His survivor's guilt continued to eat at him slowly and bit by bit on his consciousness, till he felt suffocated by it. 

He opened his eyes, taking a deep breath and groaned in frustration. The fuck was wrong with him? Actually don't answer that, he already knows. 

He took a deep breath to calm himself. Closing his eyes and taking small deep breaths. 

Leon shook his head to himself and sighed again. This wasn't going to go away anytime soon. And he really didn't want to wallow and drown in the guilt or he was sure it would kill him more than it already had. He wanted an escape. 

A sweet escape that always made him forget about the hellish missions and the guilt that comes with it. 

He opened his phone and searched for your contact and pressed the call button. Bringing the phone to his ear as it rang. 

For some reason he felt a bit guilty for only calling you for these things, which was weird because it has always been like this between you both… and neither of you minded it before. 

Maybe he needs this more than he thought. 

“Hey handsome” Your sweet voice rang in his ear from the other side of the call making his mood a bit better. 

He cleared his throat and said “Hey… Doing anything right now?” Trying not to sound too desperate for her and playing it cool. 

“Sort of… But… I can be free if you want~” trying to tease him a little bit. 

A small smile bloomed on his face when he heard that and teasingly replied. “You will make time for me huh? That's sweet.” 

You chuckle and tease him back. “Oh you know… I could never say no to you…or a good time.”

Your teasing words made Leon smile a bit more. Knowing you could always tease him a little and get away with it and he wouldn't mind it even once cause he loved the tease. 

Leon then says. “Then be free and come here.”

“Uff… So bossy. Can't add a ‘please’ in your sentence?” You asked in a playful way. 

“One more comment out of your smart mouth and I will come to your apartment to show you how bossy I can actually be.” Voice getting sultry as he teased you. 

It's not like it will be the first time he bossed a sweet thing like you around… always so eager to please him, following the orders he used to give you while you were a moaning & whimpering mess but oh, so ready to do them… just for him. 

How could he not feel like a God when you were always ready to be his devoted worshiper. 

There was a beat of silence, and Leon smirked knowing that teasing worked perfectly in making you flustered. 

He took the opportunity and said “Hmm… that's what I thought, now come here…please” emphasizing the word please more on purpose. 

You lightly huff over the phone. “You know you are making a lot of promises.” your voice was clearly flustered even if you tried to hide it. 

“Cause I can keep ‘em. I don't make empty promises and you know that…” His voice lowered. He knew how much he had an effect on you, and he couldn't help but use it to his advantage. 

Leon waited for a response. 

“...I do.” your voice came out more breathy than he expected. 

“Good girl… now come soon. I am waiting.”

He cut the call and tossed his phone aside, taking a deep breath. He wasn't going to lie to himself, he got plenty worked up from just one call and it was probably less than a minute. 

You were a damn vixen and he loved it. 

Now that you were most certainly coming over, he could at least take a shower. He got up from the couch with a groan and stretched his arms a bit and made his way to his bathroom. 

Removing his gear and soiled work clothes, he got in the shower and turned it on. Letting the water slowly wash the grime and dried blood away along with the horrible memories of the mission. 

Instead he focused his thoughts on you. He let his mind slowly fill with the sweet memories of you. Your soft red lips against his… They tasted like candy, sometimes cherry but always something sweet. 

And he especially loved when your pretty lips were wrapped around his cock…slowly taking him in and looking up at him with those greedy eyes all your senses focused on him to pleasure him. 

How could he not want a sweet thing like you around forever? 

But he wouldn't admit that out loud. 

Leon could feel himself get more worked up as he felt more images fill up in his head and groaned quietly.

He huffed lightly, and quickly finished his shower and got out of it. Moving towards his wardrobe and wearing his sweatpants and one of his casual blue t-shirt. And decided to wait till you arrived. 

15 mins later his doorbell rang and he grinned at the thought that it was you. And quickly walked towards the door and opened it. 

And there you were, a smile on your face and a soft blush on your cheeks. Wearing a white crop top and blue jeans to pair it up with and he couldn't help but smirk at the sight. He bit his lip lightly and teasingly said. “You came huh?”

You rolled your eyes and smiled playfully at his words. “You called.” your voice being equally teasing. 

He grinned and let you inside his apartment and closed the door behind you. 

“When did you come back from your mission?” You asked as you went over and sat on the couch and looked at him. 

“Today actually…” Leon said as he came over and sat beside you. You raised an eyebrow and said. “Today... Like..Just now?” 

Leon nodded and shrugged lightly and looked at you. “Yeah. Why?”

Your eyes widened and said. “Wow… aren't you tired and sleepy as hell?”

Leon chuckled and shrugged. “No, not really.”

Well to be fair he was exhausted but that's why you were here… to take it all away. 

You frowned slightly not believing his words. After all, he was gone for a considerably long time. You then slowly ask. “Are you sure?”

Leon just chuckled and teasingly replied with a smirk. “Don't worry your pretty little head about it… Although I am flattered that you care that much about my health.”

While he was grateful that you were concerned for him, he didn't want to talk about it. He would rather focus on you and get lost in you than talk about his awful work. 

You roll your eyes and smirk at him and playfully reply. “Please… I am only asking because I don't think you will be able to last if you just came back home tired as hell.” 

You knew what you were doing, but again a little friendly fire never hurts anyone. And in this, you don't care if it hurts you. 

Leon looks at you in amusement and scoffs lightly, shifting closer to you as his voice lowered. “You think I wouldn't be able to last long hmm?” Slowly bringing his hand to your thigh and caressing it gently while looking in your eyes. 

You bite your lip and slowly say. “You heard what I said… Did I hit the nail with that?” 

No, but you did hurt his ego. And he was going to prove exactly how wrong you are. All in the name of friendly fire. 

Leon started to gently run his fingers to your inner thighs and rub teasing circles there. His hand inching closer and closer... but never touching you where you really wanted him to. 

His lips curve in a smirk and biting his lip lightly. “You really think that huh...” his hot breath hitting your neck. His gaze falling on your lips, on how you are slowly biting them. 

Your face grows flushed and goosebumps rise on your skin as he… slowly moves his free hand on your other thigh and does the same thing there. His smirk grows wider when he feels you squirming a bit. 

Everything around you feels so much hotter now… his touch, his eyes shamelessly tracing every inch of your soft body. 

Leon watched as you cleared your throat and looked away from him. “Not really… I was just joking, you know.” 

Leon smirked some more and teasingly repeated your words. “Just joking hmm?”

Your breath hitches when Leon presses his lips on your neck and presses feather light kisses on it while gently nibbling on it too. You tilt your head back giving him better access, eyes fluttering shut as his teeth lightly scrape your skin.

Your perfume slowly fills his senses and makes his mind hazy with lust. You smelled so fucking good to him. All this teasing was doing a number on him. So much so that now all he wanted to do was to fuck you dumb against this couch and still keep going. 

He gently bites your earlobe and mumbles. “Can't have you making jokes everywhere on serious matters baby…”

You gasp as he suddenly spreads your thighs apart, settling himself between them. His bites on your neck get a bit more harsher as his hands start sliding to your ass. Gripping them tightly and bringing you close, pressing you against the couch and him.

He then whispers. “Can't have a sweet thing like you leaving my bed thinking my cock wasn't good enough for your pussy…”

You squirmed in his grip as his words shoot straight at your core. His touch felt as if it was burning right through your skin. You opened your mouth to say something and a small whimper escaped your lips as he bit down on a much sensitive part of your neck. 

“Oh Leon…” You mumbled and looked at him. And he quickly sealed your lips with a kiss and mumbles against your lips. “I know baby, You love that cock don't you? Love how good it feels when it ruins your little cunt.” 

A small mewl left your mouth as two of his fingers reached your center, sliding them up and down on your clothed cunt giving you the stimulation you were craving. 

Leon smirked at your little sounds and snakes his other hand under your crop top, slowly groping your right breast in his hand. And tauntingly says. “Yeah…Feels good when I give that cunt a bit of attention, Doesn't it? Already squirming under my fingers and I haven't even started.” 

Your body grew hotter as his fingers started to rub small circles over your cunt and now groping your breasts a bit harshly now. You can feel your panties getting wet from his teasing and lean more into his fingers to search for that friction. You whine and pout at him. “Leon…Stop teasing.”

He bites your earlobe. “You try to tell me what I should…And teasing you will be all I do tonight.” You pouted him in response and he just gave you a teasing grin.

As he says that he pinches one of your nipples making you jolt in surprise. You whine as he continues to pinch and roll it teasingly between his fingers drawing a needy moan from you. 

He then pulls away slightly and starts to unbutton your jeans and kisses you. He lightly tugs at your lower lip, giving you a pleasant shiver down your spine. Removing your jeans he cups your ass and drags it a bit closer for him to see. Smirking at the wet spot on your cute lacy panties. 

Soft moans and whimpers fall off your lips as he presses his thumb on your clit over the thin layer of the fabric and rubs slow teasing circles. 

His free hand makes its way to your chest and eagerly lifts your crop top and tugs your bra down to free your breasts. And latches his mouth to one of them and eagerly starts to suck on them, not even bothering to fully remove it.

He then starts to slowly suck on your nipples taking his sweet time with it while still paying attention to your cunt. His eyes are shut as if he was concentrating on the world's most important task ever. Your moans started to get louder and more whiny, and feel the flimsy fabric of your panties sticking to your folds by now.

He suddenly pinches your clit at the same time he gives a harsh tug at your nipple. Your body twitches from the sensation and you whine louder than before. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you gasped for breaths.

You looked down to see his face and whined to him. “Leon, I want more…please.” Your voice was more breathy than before. You gave him a pout and looked at him with those same needy eyes which he usually gave into.

He feels so proud for having you this way, seeing how quickly you used to melt for him and gave him the control he was so desperately craving without any resistance. And he loved it every single time. Seeing your red pouty lips, eyes filled with lust, messed up hair, flushed face, it made his heart skip a few beats every time… He could always get lost in your beauty and he wouldn't have it any other way.

Leon presses a kiss at your temple and drops another at your shoulder. And smirks and in a taunting tone whispers. “We just started baby, Already can't last hmm?”

Ass. That's what he was. An ass for using your words against you. 

He then pulls back and you whine at the loss of his touch. Panting softly, your skin feeling as if it was burning under his hot gaze. You look up at him and he wasn't any better but he had a better control on it. 

He grins and kisses you softly on the lips to make up for the teasing and softly asks “Want to move this to the bedroom?” You nod and kiss him back. Wrapping his arms around his neck and pulling him close. 

You both kiss each other softly and he slowly removes the rest of your clothes and lifts you up in his arms and slowly stands up. You wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. Your hands gripping his shoulders and continue to kiss him softly while he makes his way to his bedroom. 

He places his hands on your hips to hold you and never breaks the kiss even once. If anything he pulls you more close and deepens the kisses. He opens his bedroom door and slowly lays you down on bed and pulls away a bit and smiles at you and softly whispers. “Want more?”

You nod and he leans in close and deepens the kiss. Gently caressing your body all over, his hands kneading the soft plush fat of your thighs and hips. Tongue exploring your mouth sensually while kissing you. Both of your eyes closed while enjoying the sensual kisses and touches. This was much calmer than what you both were doing earlier but still very sensual to keep you both going. 

“Feeling better?” He mumbles against your lips. 

You chuckle softly and in a teasing tone reply. “I would feel much better when you actually start.” 

You feel a deep rumble from his chest as he laughs softly at that and shakes his head lightly. His voice takes a quick change from soft to sweetly seductive and whispers. “Fucking insatiable…Love it. Who could tell that a cutie like you was such a slut inside. But you are not gonna hear any complaints from me.”

Your cheeks burn red from his words as he now starts to kiss your neck and collarbone. A moan slipped from your mouth when he pressed himself forward and his boner made contact with your sensitive clit, letting you feel how much he was turned on right now. The cloth of his sweatpants gave enough friction to feel amazing as you started to grind against him, wanting to continue where he left off. 

Soft grunts slipped from his mouth as he felt you eagerly rub your pussy against him. A rough chuckle leaves his lips and he mumbles. “Patience baby…” and moves his hips away to stop it, pulling a whine from your mouth from frustration. 

He brings your lips in a deep kiss which you were more than happy to respond to. His hands found their way back to your chest to your breasts. Groping and massaging them and giving light tugs at your nipple which made your body twitch in excitement. 

He then tugged your lower lip, gave a harsh bite to it and tweaked your nipple lightly. He continues this motion of torturing you like this. While you lay there under him writhing and moaning for him. “Leon… I can't take it… please..”

The little piece of shit just laughs and tweaks your nipples once more making you whimper for him. And in a taunting tone says. “Oh yeah? You can't take it hmm? Too damn bad…”

You feel him rubbing those little buds under his thumb sometimes rolling it between his fingers while basically tongue fucking your mouth. You whimper, whine and even try to push him off but if anything that encourages him to do more of that. 

Soon you feel that invisible band in your stomach stretching and stretching… just waiting to snap. And Leon notices it, the way your body starts shivering and your moans get louder. He then leans in to whisper. “Gonna cum baby?”

You nod and look at him with a pout. “Please…” He just smirks and keeps doing what he was doing. Your body twitches and holds onto his shoulders. Your eyes flutter shut. You are just so close… Right… there. 

And he pulls away. 

Your eyes immediately shoot open. “Nooo!” A loud whine leaves your lips and look up at him with a frustrated expression. 

How could he do this to you? Such a fucking tease? And you were so fucking close and he just had to pull away and ruin it. 

He had a big shit eating grin on his face but he wasn't faring any better than you were. His shirt was clinging to his body, face flushed red and his hair messed up. And the way you can see his dick bulging in his pants proved he was just as pent up as you. 

He was just teasing both of you to hell. Asshole. 

You gave a pout as the tears from frustration started to brim in your eyes. “You are so mean…” 

Leon smiles as he leans down closer to you and softly coos to you. “Aww… is my baby angry at me?”

You nod and continue to pout at him. Leon smiles and takes your face in his hands. And kisses you gently on your soft lips. You don't kiss him back at first but you hear his soft whispers to forgive him for teasing you so much. “Please baby… forgive me? I swear I wouldn't tease you now… Kiss me back?”

And you really wanted to stay mad at him but… you couldn't do that for much long. 

How could you when he looked at you with those blue lust blown eyes and gave you soft kisses across your face to make you forgive him? 

You then slowly kissed him back and he was more than happy to oblige. Kissing you softly, taking his time to ease you and then he says. “Ride my face? I promise I will let you cum this time..”

Your face went red and your eyes widened and mumbled against his lips. “Really? Are you sure you want me to do that?”

You feel him nod, lightly tugging at your lower lip and say. “Of course…Want that pretty pussy of yours on my face.”

It's not like this was your first time riding his face either...

Your face goes red but you are more excited than embarrassed. You nod and kiss him back with more fervor. “Okay… I will.”

He pulls away and finally removes his clothes. Removing his sweatpants and freeing his cock from it. Groaning softly as his cock slaps against his stomach. Precum leaking from his cock. Spreading it with his thumb from his tip to the rest and lightly strokes himself. Hissing at how sensitive his cock was from all that teasing. 

Your mouth waters at the sight of him naked. His body was littered with scars but that only made him more alluring at this moment. You just wanted to kiss and nibble on each scar till he was red from all the hickeys. It always took your breath away when you watched him like this. 

You lick your lips and come closer to him and give him your most innocent doe eyes and make your voice as seductive as possible. “Can I taste you?”

Leon feels his cock twitch at the request and lightly bites his lips. He was really really tempted to take you up on that offer but he had other plans… 

He tilts your chin up and says. “Look at you… so eager for this cock hmm? Already want to wrap your pretty lips on it.”

You feel yourself getting more slicked from his words and eagerly nod. “Yes…please, want to suck your cock so bad…”

Leon smirks and gives a teasing kiss on your lips. “Some other time baby, want you to ride my face today.”

Your face flushes deep red and nod. “Okay…”

He grins and lays back down on bed adjusting himself with pillows under his head and motions for you to come up. 

You bite your lip and slowly crawl over to him. Slowly bringing your thighs on either side of his head, hands grasping at the headboard as you position yourself over his face. 

A loud groan leaves his lips as his eyes locks down at your drenched cunt. He licks his lips and feels his mouth water, he immediately grasps your hips and thighs and positions your cunt in front of his hungry mouth. 

You gasp softly as you feel him suddenly shift you more and look down at how hungrily he was looking at you. 

Leon moves his hands to your ass and squeezes it gently. And looks at you. “Come on baby sit. And don't hover, don't want to waste a drop of you”  His words make your stomach flip. Your heart thundering in your chest as you try to come up with something to say but feel your words stuck in your throat. 

You bite your lips and follow his words. And slowly sit down on his face and the moan he let's out when his tongue makes contact with your clit was downright pathetic. He immediately tightens his grip around your thighs and your ass, closing his eyes and lapping at your cunt happily. 

You moan softly as you feel his tongue give you lazy, slow licks from your labia to your clit. Taking his time with it, slowly tasting through your folds. Swirling his tongue around your already sensitive clit giving it occasional tugs with his teeth.

Your body twitches above him as your moans turn into cries of pleasure. Trying to move away from his face but he grunts and grabs your ass and pulls you back in. Giving your ass a light spank, “Don't move…” 

You squeal and close your eyes as you focus on his tongue, trying not to move that much. Biting your lip, one of your hands makes into his hair. He groans at the feeling of your fingers lightly threading through his hair. And pushes his tongue inside your sopping hole, slowly fucking you with it. 

He moans when he feels your juices on his tongue. You always tasted like a fucking heaven to him. He could stay between your thighs all day if he could. Drinking what you had to give to him while hearing sweet chorus of whines and moans as they left your mouth, his own favorite music to listen to when he came back home from those fucked up missions. 

You were his personal haven, letting him have you like this, he felt the luckiest man in the world. Feeling you tug his hair, squirming on his mouth and still riding his mouth like it was your last day on earth. He fucking loved it. He could get off on having you just like this. 

Your thighs squeeze around his head and tug at his hair a bit harder than necessary pulling a groan out of him. It only encouraged him to fuck his tongue into you faster. You squealed a bit as lifted you up a bit only to feel two of his fingers enter your cunt drawing a long moan out of you. Slowly sliding in and out of you, your wet walls eagerly sucking him back in. 

A loud groan leaves your lips when he starts to suck on your clit too. “Oh fuck…Leon!” Hips moving on its own, as he continues to finger you and tug at your clit. Curling his fingers inside and moving them against the spot which always made you see stars. Your body twitches and eyes roll in the back of your head as he moves his fingers faster. 

His fingers constantly assaulting that sweet spot within you, sometimes slowing them down to hear your pretty whines of protest and suddenly increasing the pace just to fuck with you. Feeling your thighs squeeze around his head tightly drawing a loud groan from him, the vibrations going straight to your core and giving you an instant jolt of pleasure. 

All the teasing slowly piled up and you felt that familiar band in your core just waiting to snap at any moment. You clenched tightly around his fingers. He hummed in satisfaction as he felt you do that, removing his fingers and pushing his tongue inside, wanting you to cum on his tongue instead.

He held your hips tightly to support you and let you ride his face as much as you wanted. Both of your hands going down to his hair, tugging at it while riding his face at your pace. Your clit constantly bumping against his nose making you a moaning mess above him. “Fuckkkk… Leon… feels so good… Just like that! Fuck! Yes!”

His eyes roll in the back of his head as he feels the stinging pain as you tug at his hair. Loving the pain and pleasure that came with it. One of his hands goes down to his cock and stroking himself in time with the pace that you set. Feeling himself getting closer and closer as you both kept going. 

He felt he could burst at any moment just from hearing the lewd noises you both were making. And he wouldn't have it any other way.

You open your eyes, your gaze drifting to the sight of him between your legs. And it instantly brought you closer to the edge than ever. His eyes were screwed shut, focused on giving you the high you were so eagerly chasing. His grip on your ass was tight enough to leave bruises, not that you cared.

You loved seeing his marks on your body anyway. 

“M’ gonna cum… so close…” you whined as you looked down at him. His eyes opened to look at the heavenly sight of you writhing above him and smirked. 

He winked at you and moved his tongue faster inside you and gave you a sudden spank from the hand that was already gripping you while he stroked himself with the other. 

You whine from the spank and feel that band inside you finally snap “Leon!”. He soon comes after you with a loud groan and hisses as ropes of thick hot cum fall on his thighs and abs. 

Your body twitches and shakes when the euphoria flows through your body. You felt so lightweight, feeling like you could drop at any moment. Leon gently grasped your waist with one hand and the other on your thigh, slowly helping you ride through your high. And eagerly drank up every drop. Humming softly in satisfaction. 

You whined softly still feeling his tongue swirl around your clit. You tried to get off of him whining softly in protest and he gently lowered you down in bed. His chin was soaked with your release as he wiped it away with the back of his hand. 

He brought you close to him, pressing you against him and giving soft kisses on your forehead and cheeks. Both of you were breathing heavily in each other's arms. His soft kisses act as a soothing balm to your tired body. 

You gently caressed his hair and face in return as he started to pepper kisses along your collarbone now. “Feeling good?” Leon's soft voice entered your dazed mind. You smiled lazily at him and sighed softly. “I feel amazing…”

Leon chuckled and gave a soft kiss to your crown and pulled you closer. “Good…I would be disappointed otherwise.”

You chuckled and teasingly say. “In me or yourself?” He snickered and replied “You of course. I am amazing at what I do.”

You raise an eyebrow at him and say. “And I am not?” Leon smirked and bit your earlobe playfully. “That’s up for debate…”

You scoffed, giving him an offended look at him and narrowed your eyes at him “Excuse me?”

Leon had to bite back a chuckle as he saw you trying to be serious, and he could tell that you weren't serious either. Seeing your smile threatening to take over your face.

You huff when you saw a chuckle slipping from him. “You are laughing at me aren't you?” Still keeping your eyes narrowed at him. 

Leon cleared his throat, trying his best to be serious. “No, I would never laugh at you.” 

You rolled your eyes at him and said. “Liar.” 

Leon chuckled, shaking his head in amusement and playfully whispered. “You look cute when you are angry.”

Your eyes widened at his words and looked away from him to hide your blushing face from his comment “Whatever.”

Leon chuckled. “Uh huh… What is this then?” Poking at your red cheeks. 

You pouted at him and huffed. “Nothing okay? Just shut up.”

Leon’s snickered and a mischievous grin spread on his face. “You want me to shut up? Sit on my face again and then I will think.”

Leon's smirk widened as he saw your face flush red and looking away from him, squirming slightly as you thought about doing it again. Leon squished your cheeks and turned your face back towards him and looked at you with a smug face. 

“You want to sit on my face again don't you?” A knowing smug smile on his face. 

Your face turned beet red as you felt yourself heat up again from his words and slowly nodded. 

Leon smirked and started to kiss your neck all over again and mumbled. “So...fucking...insatiable.”

This was sure as hell gonna be a long night for both of you. But none of you had any complaints. 

God. It's done. Oh my god. FINALLY. I honestly didn't expect this to take so much of my time but it surprisingly did. I guess it did cause it's my first time writing smut rather than consuming it lol.

Anyways... I hope you liked this fic. Hope it made your day!!🥰😊.

Until next time 😊❤

-Bella

[linddzz]

Hello, I wanted to ask you a question since I love the way you answer. The other day I saw a discussion that was generated by the scene in the council of Jayce and Mel in chapter 8 and many of them did not understand Jayce's reaction (they basically destroyed him). I particularly understand, and other people do, that Jayce is acting according to the consequences of the trauma he lived in the other dimension (obviously it does not justify the mistreatment). I think that he is carrying a lot of guilt and pain for his past actions, and he needs to unload that. In addition to that in the case with Mel, their intimate bond is broken by the manipulation he suffered from her (although he also had his things). But people say that he is an exaggerator, an impulsive fool, Mel also went through horrible situations (I do not deny it) and yet she did not treat him badly at that time. Well, I would like to know your opinion regarding this scene that generates debate.

It is always wild to me when I hear of or see glimpses of Arcane discourse that can be summed up with "we missed the point of the show that's heavily themed on how trauma and emotional upheaval can cause people to act in ways we may not agree with, but can understand" :)))

Also wild that people expect Jayce to be perfectly rational and emotionally competent here after we just saw him staggering around Viktor's commune with terrifying hallucinations, screaming as he blasts a hole in Viktor's chest. Not to mention that we just saw the actual hell he went through that left him in that state?? Is Jayce, who has shown that he reacts with brash anger when he's frightened and in over his head, maybe going to not be the most level headed??

One thing that I really like about the scene is that he DOES apologize to Mel afterwards. He recognizes that he acted out, apologizes for being an asshole, and recognizes that Mel is hurting as well. Yeah his actions weren't great (tho to me seeing him acting physically aggressive was another sign of just how fucked up Jayce was) but damn in the context of how everyone else in this show responds to emotional trauma, he's pretty mild.

I'll also argue that neither of them are wrong in this scene, and you can pretty clearly see why he escalated so quick. Even without an in depth analysis that looks further back, his reactions are pretty understandable (for said analysis, @avelera has some great posts on this as a breakup scene for Jayce and Mel, pointing out that his auditory flashbacks in the pit focused a lot on realizing that Mel was using them) Let's break it down:

Scene opens with Jayce already reminiscing on the traumatic event that started all this. He's standing in the place where Viktor died, where Jayce made the decisions that created whatever Viktor is now. When you rewatch it, you have the added context that he's likely grappling with what Mage Viktor has told him. It's important to note that at this point, he doesn't know that Mel has arcane powers until his hammer and arcane corrupted mind spidey-sense her arrival.

We already know he was dealing with a ton of survivors guilt for being untouched by the blast while everyone else was grievously injured, and while Viktor specifically mortally wounded. This is probably the worst place and the worst time for him to learn that Mel has arcane powers and that she's the reason they were unharmed. And that sucks. Because he's closing Mel off even harder than he already would have, while he's the one Mel learned to be more emotionally vulnerable with.

Something happened to her too, and she reaches out for that connection. She doesn't need to be a strong Noxian with Jayce, so she tries to connect on the fact that they both obviously went through something, but unfortunately it's just when he thinks his worst suspicions about her are confirmed. 

Because hey let's ALSO talk about Jayce realizing Mel has been using him and why he's gonna take that hard! Jayce is pretty obviously a romantic person in season 1. It's almost a comedy beat when he snuggles up in her lap and she looks startled with the realization that her boytoy is a puppy. That is so obviously a lad who does not see sex as something casual, and he's very emotionally vulnerable with Mel very quickly.

Now, we, the viewers, have been able to see Mel allowing herself more vulnerability with Jayce in return. We've seen that she views her political manipulation as a way to benefit everyone. We've seen that she really came to care about Jayce, that sleeping with him became more than another way to influence him. But Jayce has only now realized he WAS being used. Who WOULD respond nicely to that? 

So you have that, on top of suddenly learning there is a reason he was fine while Viktor wasn't. Yes it's unfair to immediately blame her for it, but as soon as he says "because you used me!" I had a moment of "OH...yeah actually he's right tho. he's not out of pocket there"

(Also we can see him shutting that emotional vulnerability down. He tells Mel "it doesn't matter" because he's seen how his openness with her made him easy to manipulate. Again, she has opened herself up in return, but he has no way of knowing how much was sincere or not and is in no state to be rational about any of it.)

It doesn't help that she pretty much confirms that she used him. To Mel, it's not an insult to be seen as an investment by her, so she justifies herself for it, and I'm gonna read her a bit for this; when someone is feeling some sort of way about being used as an investment, explaining why they were a great investment isn't the best move!

And then. Yaknow. His brain is all jacked up from Arcane corruption and he's got Mel already setting that off with her powers, then Viktor's making them go extra wild by creeping around with his freaky little cuntbot. I didn't like him getting physically intimidating but it's also pretty obvious that he was seeing her as an active threat until Viktor showed up.

And again. He pretty quickly apologized and gave her an opening to talk about what happened to her. It's not perfect, but no one on this show IS. That's the point of the show! The fact that he quickly apologizes both times we see him lash out at people he cares about shows a pretty substantial amount of emotional intelligence in comparison to everyone else in this "Hurt People Hurt People" show.

So. yeah. I also had the emotional journey of "hey Jayce that's not fair, she pretty obviously said she couldn't control it, what the hell are you stalking at her with that hammer for- OH. I mean. YEAH she did use you that....hey that part's fair...also Mel back up girl, he's super obviously Not Okay." But I think acting like Jayce is some sort of unique asshole in THIS SHOW is quite a stretch.

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 42 all chapters

WARNINGS FOR THIS FIC: NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT, VIOLENCE, YANDERE SH!T. Plz take care. I luv u all. 😘

42. home sweet home  

Although all you wanted in the world was to return home when you were trapped in The Continental, you find as you pull up the driveway you suddenly feel the tiniest bit of trepidation, just a hint of nervousness for living alone in this isolated mountain retreat here with John.

You want to trust him with all your heart, blithely steadfast in your confidence as much as your love. But there is a tiny whisper of doubt creeping up from the dungeons in the back of your mind.

You do not think John is insane. You do, however, believe he experienced a bit of a psychotic break in the days when he first took you, a bomb loaded with the pressures of past battle trauma, excruciating grief, and fear of losing control-i.e. you. 

He’d been so good to you in the city, but the last time you dwelled in this glorified cabin, you cannot forget that up to the last hours, you were a prisoner. 

Now, you’ve agreed to marry this man, and he holds your hand as you walk through the door on your own power, like things were always normal between you.  

Maybe you’re the crazy one, because you resolve to lift your chin and plow forth as though nothing bad had happened here. What you want is here in the present, and shining in the future. What do you have to gain, by dwelling on the past? You will put it behind you. Not forgotten–but forgiven. You know that is the only real way your love will survive–will thrive. Yet you also know, deep down, this vow you make to yourself will be easier said than done. 

You bring in your suitcases, and look over the repairs that were finalized while you were gone. It all looks essentially good as new. The bullet holes in the walls have been patched. There’s a new rug in the great room; there was no getting the blood out of the old one. 

Dog seems happy to be home too, trotting around and sniffing, making sure all is in its proper place in his domain.

You lose track of John in the big house; when you go searching for him, you find him just standing in the kitchen, staring at the place where one of the intruders had nearly ended him with a knife–before you shot them in the throat. Certain he’s having one of his flashbacks, you call out to him in a gentle voice, trying to talk him back from it without startling him. You’re no doctor, of course, but you may have fallen into some Google spirals about how to care for someone with PTSD at the Continental. 

Finally he responds to your voice, turning towards you with a haunted look in his eyes. “It’s ok,” you soothe him, reaching for him now that he’s woken from his trance. “We’re ok.” You think you actually believe it, too. He wraps you up in a tight embrace, burying his face in your hair and breathing deeply. You stand like that in the kitchen, just hugging, for what feels like an hour, but is probably only five minutes. 

“Do we…need to go somewhere else?” you ask quietly, sad at the thought of leaving the cabin, but wondering if fresh surroundings might be better. 

“No,” he insists. “Unless you want to.” Offering you this choice even just a month ago would have  been an impossible thing for him. 

“I’m fine, so far. I still like it here.” 

He nods, and presses his forehead to yours. “Y/n…” He sighs. “When I lost Helen, I wanted to die. Then, I wanted to survive, but just to kill. But you…you made me want to live again. It’s all I could think, while I was fighting. I want to live. For you.”

You kiss him softly; soon it grows into a heady lock of lips, John’s arms around you lifting you to your tiptoes. Between kisses he asks, “Can I take you upstairs?” 

This is the thing that gives you pause. Maybe the kitchen is the traumatic room in the house for John, but that luxurious bedroom upstairs has been your personal Bastille for the past months, and for a moment you freeze, finding that you are afraid to take the leap of faith with him. 

It’s his turn to offer comfort, when he notices your reluctance, and just maybe interprets it correctly. “It’s alright,” he assures you. “Come with me. Let me show you something.” With your hand in his he leads you up the stairs. Your steps are slow, but he doesn’t drag you along, being patient with you. When you cross the threshold of the bedroom your heart is pounding in your chest like it damn well means to escape through your ribcage, but you force yourself to take one more step with him to the keypad by the door. 

He starts punching in a long sequence of numbers, then he takes you utterly by surprise when he presses your hand to the sensor. The keypad is mounted so high you can barely reach it.  A few moments later the little green light flashes. “There. See?”

He shuts the door and you jump at that familiar, dreaded, click. “John?” You hate how small and needy your voice sounds. 

“Put your hand up, honey.” 

With your heart in your throat you reach up to touch the sensor, reluctant as though you almost suspect a trick. But then the lock on the door clicks open. 

You aren’t proud of the sob of relief that escapes you. John catches you up in his arms again, holding you. Until he wrapped you up, you didn’t realize that you were shaking. “There now, see?” he says soothingly, just like you’d spoken to him in the kitchen. “It’s yours, honey. Everything I have is yours.” 

A long, brittle sigh escapes you as you bury your nose in his neck. It doesn’t really register for you, what he means by that statement. All that matters are his arms around you, and that fucking door is open. “All I want is you,” you tell him, and you mean it.

“You’ve got me. I’m ok. Are you ok?”

You nod, offering a watery but genuine smile. He kisses your cheeks, which you didn’t realize were wet with tears. “My sweet girl. You have the biggest heart. What are you doing with a devil like me?” 

Your laugh sounds shaky too–did he forget that at first, he didn’t really give you a choice? “Having the adventure of a lifetime?”

He huffs at that, as amused as you are. Suddenly you are weightless as he hoists you in his arms, and takes you to the bed. 

He doesn’t say it aloud, but you fancy that you feel it. Every kiss he presses to your aching skin, every soft caress, feels embedded with apology, and you accept it. With open arms, you take it all. 

***

You wake before John from your post-coital nap. It’s late afternoon. You can tell, from the sideways light streaming through the windows. Quietly you slide out of bed, picking up your clothes in a bundle because you haven’t unpacked your robe yet from your suitcase. You dress downstairs, so you will not wake him. 

Knowing someone will have to go to the store soon, you browse the pantry for a snack, finding a granola bar. You go stand by the windows while you eat it, looking out at the forest. That is when, out the corner of your eye, you realize the light on the lock control on the front door is green. 

You can’t remember the last time that happened. 

When you’d unwittingly wandered into Wick’s lair after that hike for coffee and sundries? It wasn’t even quite a year ago, but it feels like a lifetime. 

You cannot stop yourself now. Your feet move on their own to the door, trying the knob. 

It turns freely, and so of course, you pull. 

The portal swings open, so naturally, you step outside. 

The early fall air is crisp, and has never smelled so sweet. You lift your face to the sun, soaking it in. 

Have you arrived? Is this the life you always wanted for yourself? 

You decide to wander, just a little. You walk around the driveway, stretching your legs, and then you meander to the edge of the woods. It’s almost as though the trees are calling you. You take a step, and then another, until you are in the forest, and you are happy. 

You’re not really gone long. Maybe twenty minutes, all in all, just a tiny little ramble. You pass back through the front door as quietly as you can muster, not wanting to wake John. You start, when you find him sitting at the kitchen island, with his head in his hands. You are startled, when you realize he’s been crying. 

“John?” You practically leap across the floor to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

He grabs you up in arms, holding you so tightly your ribs creak. “I thought…you’d left,” he admits quietly. He squeezes you again, shuddering as he buries his face in your hair. He doesn’t say more, but you think you might know the rest. The fact that he was sitting in the kitchen, and not tearing through the woods after you…if that was your decision, would he have let you go? 

You freeze, your breath ceasing, your very heart screeching to a stop in your chest. 

This man. 

How is it possible, for so much love to fit inside your insignificant shell of a body, for this man?

You draw back to look at him, really look at him, those mocha dark puppy eyes that tear your heart to shreds fixed on yours. “I’m never going to leave you, John.” It spills from your lips before you can even think about it, but once its out you realize it’s absolutely true. After everything he put you through…you still just know you will never be happy, without him by your side. Nothing and no one else will do. 

A psychologist would have a fucking field day with you. They would say things like Stockholm Syndrome and shared trauma bond, abandonment issues and codependent relationship. You would tell them to fuck the fuck off–and that Stockholm Syndrome is made-up bullshit devised by two male psychologists in the seventies to describe ‘hysterical female behavior’. 

You’ve known people who have made worse decisions for much less reward.

“I will always come back to you,” you tell him. “You’re stuck with me now. Like…a wart that won’t go away.” 

This makes him laugh, and it’s such a beautiful sight. You kiss his tears away, then his mouth. It soon turns into another tonsil-inspecting affair that leaves you both breathless. “I’m going to have to take you back upstairs now,” he says with a sniff, only half joking. 

“How about you take me to the grocery store? It’s going to be dinner time soon.”

He chuckles at that, nods, and kisses your forehead. “Okay.”

It’s almost like you’re an old married couple already.

[mmhcs]

Not Tonight

Warnings: Slightly suggestive opening, implications and mentions of trauma and traumatic events, implications of flashbacks, descriptions that may be uncomfortable, reader needs a hug (and therapy)

Finally.

You sigh, hooking your arms around Miguel’s neck.

Finally, it’s happening.

After a week of barely seeing each other, you and Miguel finally have a night to yourselves.

Originally, you had planned to spend your Friday evening alone on the couch, catching up on the new season of that TV show you religiously kept up with.

Miguel didn’t watch it (he only loosely followed along during those times that you two had watched it together) but you still couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sadness at the fact that tonight you would follow the show's plot from beginning to end without distraction, less-than-stellar remarks, or need for explanation every two seconds.

Well, at least I get to watch, you had told yourself as you settled onto the couch.

It wasn’t a perfect evening, but it would be a fun one. You only hoped that Miguel, probably still in his office, wasn’t overworking himself. Hopefully Lyla was there to bring some playfulness into the otherwise sterile environment that he would submerge himself well into next morning.

If only he was here.

You relaxed into the couch, bringing your blanket up as the theme song to your show began playing. Within a few seconds were immersed, but clearly not fully so as you jumped when you heard your front door open and the sound of keys jangling.

“Miguel?” you called, both excited and in disbelief.

Nobody else had a key to your apartment but you still had to see him to believe that it was true.

“¡Cariño!” Miguel replied, coming into view.

Before you had the chance, he, in two wide strides, walked over to the couch and scooped you into a hug.

“What are you—”

“I took the night off; I missed you.”

“Took the night off” was a generous term. Miguel had no boss; he was his own superior. His “staying late at the office” was because Miguel felt it necessary, that if he didn’t then something would happen and the “Arachno-Humanoid Poly Multiverse” (as he called it) would collapse.

Since the two of you started dating, Miguel had gotten better at taking breaks. But you knew that you alone couldn’t bring him to ultimate healing—just like he couldn’t do the same for you.

But the two of you tried. Tried to work through you issues, not only for the other but for your respective selves. Which is why hearing Miguel say that he took the night off because he missed you made your stomach flutter with butterflies and an ache start to pool in its center.

Needless to say, you and Miguel didn’t make it past the ending of the theme song.

And that’s how you two ended up here: on your shared bed, you in Miguel’s lap and his mouth dragging itself against your neck. The warmth of his breath tickled your neck, eliciting a sharp moan from you. Your hands flew from his neck to his hair, pulling at it as if it were a life raft, your only way to keep yourself from falling back onto the bed.

Not yet.

“Yes, Miguel,” Your breath hitches as he begins to suck on your neck, concentrating on the spot between your neck and shoulder. “I like that,”

He gives a moan of response, his mouth still on your neck.

Almost unconsciously, your head tilts itself to the side in order to give him more room to work.

“Like that,” you cry out once more. “Likethatlikethatlikethatlike—”

I don’t like that.

You look down, feeling newfound warmth at your side—Miguel’s hand kneading just above your hip.

Focus. Breathe. you tell yourself.

But it’s too late; you can feel the ache in center fading and being replaced with fear and disgust.

In an attempt to preserve your arousal, you gently place a hand at the back of Miguel’s head—as if to tell him to keep going—but it’s no use. What was just been considered hot, tantalizing kisses is now just slobber, each one further cementing that cold and hollow feeling into you.

Just one night. That was all you wanted. Just one night where you could enjoy yourself and Miguel’s company.

“Baby?”

You jump, startled. Slowly, you blink once, returning your attention to the moment. When you look down, you see that Miguel’s gaze is already on you, wide eyes and furrowed brows.

You frown. How long had you been staring at the wall?

“Hey, quierda,” Miguel begins gently. He readjusts himself to his full height, also slightly shifting you so that you now reside on his thigh instead of his lap. He removes his hands from where they had previously been and uses one to cup your cheek and lift your head to meet his gaze. “Are you okay?”

“Miguel, I...” you start but you don’t know how to finish.

What do you say? What can you say? How do you begin to explain how you feel? That yes, you want him but you just couldn’t get your mind to settle down. That parts of you are still stuck in a time way before this and couldn’t seem to move on?

“I’m sorry,” you say, gently removing his hands from your face. “I just don’t feel—” you pause, taking a deep breath. Your emotions are all over the place; the last thing you need right now is tears. “—Not tonight, Miguel. Not tonight.”

“That’s okay,” Miguel wastes no time answering. “Are you hurt?”

His eyes immediately start looking you over for cuts and scratches that would need to be tended to.

In the past, you’ve discussed some of your trauma with Miguel. He didn’t know the full story—he didn’t need to—but ever since that first time you informed him, he swore that he would do whatever he could to alleviate some of your pain.

He couldn’t take it away—he knew that for a fact—but he could be there for you. Which is why he’s running through his mind now, thinking of the best way to help.

“How about a shower, yeah?” he finally suggests. “You take a shower and I’ll make dinner.”

You sigh and bite down on your lip, trying to steel yourself.

Though you and Miguel had stopped, you still feel anxious. Your heart is banging against your chest and you feel a knot growing within your throat, making your voice hoarse and strained. But those pale in comparison to what you feel mentally.

Despite being with Miguel, you don’t feel safe. You feel the overwhelming urge to hide under the covers and sob and scrub yourself raw. Your senses are on-edge, gifting you a numbing headache that pummels against your temples despite there being no danger present.

You can’t focus. You want to sleep. Forget. Wake up tomorrow when this is all over.

“A shower sounds nice,” you finally say. “But I don’t think I’m that hungry right now.”

“That’s fine,” Miguel reassures you. “You shower. I’ll be in the living room when you’re finished,”

“Alright,” You give him a small nod, willing yourself to stand and head to the bathroom.

As you go through the motions, you can’t help but steal glance at your body every couple of minutes.

You don’t know how to feel. You don’t know what you’re feeling. A part of you feels scared. Scared because you’re trying so hard not to let your mind go to where your body has seemingly returned. Another part of you feels frustrated. You want Miguel—or at least you wanted him—but you...You didn’t feel fully present. It’s like no matter how hard you tried to be present in the moment, you just couldn’t. You can’t move everything out of your mind. Not by yourself, not with Miguel—hell, sometimes not even while you sleep.

You sigh, running the loofah along your arm again.

Great, another thing to mention in therapy.

You have to be patient with yourself. That was a fact that you learned a long time ago. But sometimes—sometimes it’s so frustrating that it brings tears to your eyes. You feel like a lost cause. Some days you even wonder if you’ll ever be able to feel “normal” again. To be able to relax and let go. To have both your mind and body be on the same page.

The uncertainty of it all brings tears to your eyes and they fall in fat goblets, mixing with the show water as they trickle down the drain.

An hour later, you pad into the living room wearing a pair of loose sweatpants, a light shirt, and the ends of your hair slightly damp.

“Hey,” Miguel turns from the sink to the kitchen counter, turning off the faucet. You look around the kitchen with furrowed brows, hoping that he really didn’t cook anything because you don’t think that you have much of an appetite at all now.

“I made some agua de fresa”, Miguel explains, pointing to the living room. “I know you said you don’t have much appetite but just in case you feel dehydrated, it’s there.”

You look, seeing two glasses of agua de fresa and the TV paused on the first few minutes of your show from earlier. On the couch is your favorite blanket and slightly more pillows than there were earlier.

“Thank you,” you say quietly, your throat raw with emotion.

Miguel simply nods, his eyes still scanning your face. “If there’s anything you need—or anything you want—please, just tell me.”

Minutes later, you and Miguel find yourselves on the couch, blanket draped over your laps and a glass of agua de fresa in your hand. The blanket acts as a tether between the two of you—close enough for the two of you to feel each other’s warmth but not close enough that you were on top of each other, a sensation that you couldn’t handle right now.

“...Ay Dios mío, why would he do that?” Miguel frowns, angrily pointing to the TV. “I swear, I don’t know how can watch this show so calmly; some people are really stupid,”

For the first time tonight, you giggle and you feel some of the tension from earlier dissipate. You smile down at your stomach, as if it would return the gesture.

Patience, you remind yourself.

It most definitely hasn’t been a perfect night but it’s starting to get better. And, for the first time in a long time, you feel yourself relaxing a bit, getting consumed by the moment.

As you look around you, you can only sigh in relief.

In due time. Maybe not soon, but you’re on your way. In due time.

A/N: Hi! Thank you so much for reading. Admittedly, this fic was a little personal and I just wanted to clarify that I know this isn’t everybody's experience or way or handling things but it is mine so that’s what I went off of.

To everyone in a similar situation: It will be okay. Maybe not now but one day it will. Please keep going and take care of yourselves.

[andhumanslovedstories]

I was in the ICU last night taking care of medsurg overflow patients—that’s when you aren’t sick enough to be in the ICU anymore but we don’t have a bed anywhere else for you yet. I don’t like floating to the ICU. It’s such a coin flip as to whether you’re gonna have a hard night or an easy one. You almost never get a full load of four patients, and that’s so nice, but the one or two or three patients you do have are all sick enough to have needed intensive care six hours ago. They’re usually still not doing amazingly. But they’re floor status now, so it’s medsurg patient ratios. But if you were a medsurg floor, the charge would probably be like “let’s not give three patients of this high an acuity to one nurse.”

Also some of them are NOT floor status. They’re just “slightly less likely to die in the next 12 hours status.” What we really need is a step down unit which is somewhere between the extreme high acuity of the ICU and the catchall category of medsurg. Instead we have a couple units that are “essentially step down units,” which means they are just medsurg units but you know your night is probably gonna be so hard.

Besides the patients, the ICU is just so spread out and lonely. Most critical care patients have a 1:1 ratio—one patient to one nurse. That’s on account of how intensive the care is, you see. But it also means whenever you’re like “I would love some help,” everyone else on the floor is like “if I step more than six feet away from my patient, he will die so badly.” It makes it really hard to casually engage in conversation, especially since I’m not qualified to do like anything in the ICU rooms, so I would clearly be going over there to expressly talk to them. And I don’t want to have a conversation! I just want to establish some rapport. I love bounding ideas off other staff! I love being about to shoot the shit a lil bit and then be like “well I have rounds” when one of us has to wander off. No one here has rounds. They are already Right There.

Anyway then the shift ends, and it’s time to pass off your patients. If you’re lucky it’s to another medsurg nurse who also looks a kid realizing too late into the lecture that this is not their class. But sometimes you give report to an ICU nurse who asks questions that are so pertinent and are so fair to ask, but they’re also like. the kind of questions you ask when you expect the person you’re getting report from is another critical care nurse who only has one patient. At a certain point, I just wanna be like “what do you want from me, dude. i’m stupid. every lab you’re asking about is in the chart and you understand them better than I do. can I go home”

That also means when they give you a real softball like “and how many IVs does he have” and you’re like “uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh let’s go count them together shall we” you feel like the biggest dipshit in the world. And then they ask you three more questions each easier than the last as you have traumatic flashbacks to nursing school, specifically the parts where you failed a quiz and also misspelled your name. It just ends the shift on a bad note. Not even a bad note. Real burp of a shift change.

I’m feeling particularly salty because I overheard a couple critical care nurses last night joking about how medsurg nurses are so nervous about the medical boarders and basically saying that we’re always freaking out over nothing while being completely oblivious to the actual symptoms that matter. And as a nurse who once called rapid response because my patient’s heart beat weird for about twelve seconds, I was like “hey. you’re correct. but also must be nice to have just one patient and all shift to read every single thing about them and to sit outside their door next to your fully stocked equipment cart, and to be able to watch them all shift.” And it’s like yeah, critical care nurses can take all the blood out of a person and then put it all back better than before. But I know to turn off lights when I leave a patient room at three in the morning, and apparently in the ICU that’s an even more illusion trick.

But anyway it’s twelve hours later and I’m on the other side of a good good sleep, so I’m less cranky, and back to being appreciative of the specific skills critical care nurses being that are so essential, and also I was like, how pressed can I really be about one group of nurses joking about another group of nurses. that’s like 25 percent of my blog at this point.

[starrycloak]

ptsd flashbacks, hyperphantasia and true sight - Max's drawings in 4x05 were too good, actually

cw discussions of ptsd

I was thinking about how, the morning after she escaped Vecna's lair, Max took upon drawing what she saw there. Mostly HOW she drew those pictures:

Separate elements, fragmented individual snapshots (like an officer taking pictures at a crime scene- by the way, check out @threemanoperation's post about other instances of weird puzzle collage-solving-seemingly-without-a-reference here; it was a major inspo for this post). Sure, nobody was expecting her to render a single 360° view of Vecna's mindspace, but her drawings are more than clear enough. This level of detail (the broken, scattered structures, trinkets, Chrissy and Fred's bodies in their current state, mixing the crayon colors available in Holly's box so they'd more closely match what she saw, the different angles) is more than quite accurate for someone who 1) hadn't previously been labelled as skilled in drawing and 2) might have been scared for her life to mindfully focus on her surroundings. I have two main questions, both quite connected to one another, but I'm afraid I won't be able to answer them fully: how and why.

how could max remember so clearly what she saw in vecna's mindscape and externalize her memories with such high fidelity?

some assault/attemped m*rder survivors have very vivid memories of the moment they were attacked -those memories might not even be limited to image and sound, but even smells, textures, etc.

When traumatic memories are retrieved, the physical stress response actually serves to strengthen them, to reinforce the memory in the circuits of the brain. The PTSD response makes these memories stronger and stronger over time. [Survivors] may not remember all of the details, but the things that they do remember remain sharp and consistent.

There's no clear-cut time frame for how long it takes for our brains to initiate and run this process, so I'd not rule out something of the sort might have happened to Max from the moment she came back and the next morning at the Wheelers' (plus she didn't sleep at all and probably saw those images any time she closed her eyes). However, I can't help but consider what I said above about Max's main focus probably being elsewhere in that moment, along with the fact that Max's drawings were beyond beginner (as in, not hobby) level (did you see how many different vanishing points she used for the 'floating' objects???), and a very important detail she mentions herself: her walking into the red mindscape wasn't Vecna trying to scare her per se -he did NOT want her to see that, so he probably didn't want her to remember that place either. Yes, he had seemed kind of... "peacock-y" when it came to the classic "serial k*ller leaves crumbs bc he secretly wants to be found out", but he has to call the shots on who gets to see what, like he eventually did with Nancy. Max managed to "infiltrate" his mind bc he did the same to her first, so would it be far-fetched to think that, if it was only up to him, he'd make sure to block or take away those memories from her to patch what ultimately becomes an exploitable vulnerability for the Party and co?

unless someone else, in a similar position to Vecna -or even higher-, was on the Party's side-

I want to explore two possible explanations as to why max was able to retain such clear images/memories, stemming mainly from @greenfiend and @/kaypeace21's posts about DID theory. One: with Vecna being Will's persecutor alter, escaping his claws might have 'granted' Max an ability that has a similar-ish equivalent on an irl condition that can influence memory processing: hyperphantasia.

Hyperphantasia is the condition of having extremely vivid mental imagery. [It] has been described as being "as vivid as real seeing" [...] Vivid mental imagery as observed in hyperphantasia impacts people's ability for "mental time travel", or the ability to remember past events as well as imagine future events. Hyperphantasics have reported more sensory details of episodic memories and future event constructions.

sadly, it's more of a curse that a boon:

Vivid imagery has been correlated to several mood disorders, particularly anxiety, major depressive disorder, and bipolar disorder, and having hyperphantasia may exacerbate symptoms of such disorders by subserving ruminating thoughts as well as acting as an "emotional amplifier" [...] The vividness of mental imagery has a key role in the development and continuation of intrusive memories, so for those with PTSD, having hyperphantasia is a substantial risk factor.

if this sounds a bit familiar, it's because it's tied to the second possible explanation: Max, being an alter of Will, acquiring/borrowing the host's artistic abilities/motor skills (to a degree*) and a flash of his True Sight so she could help the party navigate that part of the hivemind as if they themselves had been there. or, similar to Billy, she was 'activated' (re: influenced/possessed) to help the party with this particular task.

*at first I thought this detail was too much of a reach, but then I remember how similar Max's and El's -another alter- drawings were in The Piggyback (although El's had bigger heads both times), and how stickmen were either a deliberate choice by Max or just her back to default:

[bugs1nmybrain]

Shigaraki's Psychological Conditions Headcanons - (a long ass post)

So, I'll preface this by saying I am NOT a psychiatrist and am not qualified to diagnose shit. I do however have a history of personal mental health disorders and am going to school for mental health work. This is mostly just for theory sake. My word is not absolute

Let's begin

warnings: mental illness as title suggests, not proofread and probably has typos

Antisocial Personality Disorder / Conduct Disorder

This one sort of goes without saying cuz duh he's a villain or whatever. I want to specify that in terms of Antisocial Personality, he likely is a sociopath, NOT a psychopath

I hear people call him a psychopath all the time and it's infuriating because people throw around labels without understanding what they mean. Psychopaths are more cunning and charming, and very manipulative. This isn't to say that Tomura is none of those things. Psychopath, however, applies to people like All For One. Almost diplomatic and very persuasive.

Tomura is a sociopath because he's known for recklessness and abrasive behavior. Psychopaths often pretend to have feelings, but for sociopaths aggression is a key emotion that's visibly displayed. They are also able to feel remorse in some cases, and I run this back to Shigaraki because he spent years in what was implied to be repressed guilt regarding the death of his family. Tomura admits it himself in his flashbacks, but ultimately decides to let go of that guilt (that he still fucking feels and is in DENIAL but that's another post). Hence, his forgiving nature toward his mother and sister when he's dreaming during surgery.

Even after Tomura let that burden go, he has no desire to be cool and collected, he just fucks around and finds out. Overall, though, he disregards people's lives and doesn't have remorse for what he's done because he throws his trauma and desires over it as a bandaid. He does show care and consideration to people in the League, though.

The conduct disorder part of it is self-explanatory. He's a violent criminal, lol.

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD)

Duh.

Trauma is pretty much all Tomura has known. I won't reiterate his backstory, but being physically abused and rejected as a child, the murder of his family, being blatantly ignored by people on the streets, and AFO's upbringing? That's a lot

His PTSD is so dehibilitating that it took hold of his body language and behavior. Before the end of s5, Tomura was rigid and hunched over. In the MHA video games, he's also seen as very restless and moving his body around (until s4 era in One's Justice 2). I'll attach a video below.

He's also just very irritable and easily set off at the reminders of his trauma and rejection. "I HATE YOU" is a key example, as up to that point Tomura had been improving his rash behavior, but he's very unsettled by his past and continues to be now.

Obsessive Compulsive Disorder

His case of OCD is connected to his trauma and emotions. You'll find that a lot of his conditions feed into one another. For him, he has a variant of dermatillomania (often known as the skin picking disorder). For him, that is in the form of scratching rather than picking. But he does it compulsively and without thought, and he does it in attempts to self soothe. I believe he does it occasionally as a self injurious behavior, resulting in itching himself rather than lashing out. He even just does it when he's only moderately anxious or irritated.

Depression

While we don't see Shigaraki slumped in bed or feeling sad in the ways we see in many cases of depression, his "I hate everything" mentality puts him here. Actually, it's safe to say he experiences anhedonia, which is the lack of enjoyment in anything. He seems to somewhat enjoy video games, but his bio states "nothing" as his likes. I'm inclined to believe he feels no personal joy or happiness, and tries to attain that through murderous rage. Never works tho, does it Tomura?

Bipolar Disorder and Unspecified Psychotic Disorder

This one might stir some debates, but I do genuinely think he has a mood disorder. I don't want to feed into stigma that bipolar and psychotic people are "evil," because I myself have these conditions, so maybe I'm projecting lmao. He's definitely not medicated, and so I'd say his case is Bipolar Type 1. This type is characterized by intense manic symptoms, though depressive symptoms can be severe, too.

Tomura has manic tendencies, and he's impacted by mania in that he seems to get spontaneous motivation, but he also will stay stagnant for some time. I saw this as the case when Spinner literally went at Shiggy for putting the League in a complacent stage, but he's done this before, such as when he was in a slump about Stain. When his motivation surges, though, he goes above and beyond and doesn't put extensive thought into it. He just lunges into his desires in pursuit of satisfaction. He also has delusions of grandoisity to some degree and has a moment where he treats himself as invincible. He fought Gigantomachia for almost two months, and kept fucking going at him. Surely, he could've asked the doctor to call him off, but Tomura wanted that power so bad. Tomura also went into his surgery without asking many questions about it. He makes very impulsive decisions, even after people insist that he "matured." He also gets flicked into motivation like a snap of a finger, and proceeds to be lead mostly by endorphins and gratification.

When Tomura experiences what he perceives as a "positive" emotion, it overtakes him. He becomes pretty much engrossed in his bodily sensations. Through maniacal laughter and taunting language that's charged in a hate induced fuel. When Shigaraki has "voila" moments, he has a surge in neuroactivity and gets into aggressive mood stages, but I guess that could apply to most of the villains. I saw this when Deku told him the difference between him and Stain, and Tomura had a surge in manic-like bliss and drive.

I'm not sure if Tomura hearing the voices of his family before his epiphany was just intrusive thoughts, but I thought they may have been auditory hallucinations. Tomura admits to hearing things that aren't there and seeing visual hallucinations, too. Evidenced by:

I hate how the dub translated this into "when you're this tired" as a broad statement. The manga gives this more personal association to Shigaraki, and he says that it happens when he's sleepy, and doesn't specify if it's only when he's extremely sleep deprived or just tired. Also, him staying up for days on end and smiling his ass off reeks of mania. He has delusional sprinkles in his thinking process, but they're not of bizarre nature, and are usually tied to his trauma. At this point in the manga he's very psychotic, though. That has a lot to do with him being fueled with adrenaline and also just breaking out of AFO's control.

I think he is either bipolar type 1 with psychotic features or has a mild case of schizoaffective disorder. Probably the first one, but I'm not sure.

ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder)

This one is more of a gut feeling for me, but I see Tomura as being easily distracted and aloof to his surroundings at times. He's fidgety and does shit on whim.

Also, look at his room.

I'm not saying that everyone with ADHD has a messy room, but from what I can see, he goes from one task, drops it entirely without picking up, and goes to the next. Some could argue that Tomura simply doesn't care, and that's true, but he's at least got some decency to put the shit in trash bags. Trash bags that he HASN'T EVEN TAKEN OUT. I think he gets too caught up in the shit he's focused on that it slips his mind to do simple things like that.

He has spontaneous interests from what I can tell from the many books and toys he has that seem to have gone untouched for some time. He also hyperfixates, and I don't mean interest wise. I mean that when he's dwelling on something, it doesn't leave his mind for DAYS, until he gets some gratification. All Might in s1 and Stain s2 for example.

-

In conclusion, this boy has a grocery list of conditions, but I love Tomura. I love my beautiful prince with a disorder, and he is so dear to me.

I'm open to discussions about this, but please keep them respectful.

[sheepoftheseus]

lockstep

the end of wha ch 62 is loadbearing for my heart. essay under the cut

if you like what i do, you can tip me on kofi so i can keep drawing deer & gay people. all of my art will always be available for free but i do unfortunately need to feed myself also

my favorite part of wha by kamome shirahama is a very small insignificant addendum in ch 62. i talk about it constantly but have never written abt it. it's the one w/ the fire deer

i have a super weird relationship w/ art. i started drawing when i was like old enough to know what colors were. i used to make money freelancing thru commissions which i promo'd thru the fanart i drew. people knew abt me bc i was good at ace attorney men & i could afford food + nice things on occasion because of it. i worked way below min wage bc i'd rather drive myself into the ground than dare to assert that my art was worth more than 20usd + had many part time retail jobs. i unfortunately know a lot about selling myself abt best times to post for traction etc it was always for money

i am trying to repair my relationship w/ art bc it's something i just want to enjoy again. i'm super utilitarian about media i like it has to be meaningful or beautiful bc i refuse to sit around & watch junk food shows all day. wha is one of those things where i like it bc it is all these

62's addendum starts w/ a joke abt haha funny the gay artist freak has a deadline. gets up pulls back & does very small things that are just having a life outside of making shit. it takes presumably the whole day & there's another joke that goes like this

off the cuff makes a comment about well this ambiguous deadline isn't going away but it's not "we're fucked forever" it's "i don't have time to do other shit"

sits up, looks outside, some dumb gay shit about wondering what the kids are up to. mind begins to wander & naturally it settles on something that is so clearly a flashback to something traumatizing that his body physically reacts. next couple of lines are like this

the deadline doesn't fucking matter because i'm very sick. something very sweet about kids not fully realizing how they're traumatized that i'm not qualified to talk about even though i work w/ traumatized kids. he gets up & goes outside again

here's like my favorite goddamn page in the entire thing & also the reference i used for this thing

one of the girls asks him why he made this. he sort of struggles to answer but because he's talking to a child he is taking care of so there's not really space to go "hey i am traumatized & this is helping me"

a doodle is insane for something so like ostentatious which is super funny. like those artists who post mona lisas & go "quick fun doodle :)". maybe he's gay coz only gay artists will do shit like this

the end of 62 is "i guess there is good that comes even when nothing good comes to mind" & then some lofty shit abt childhood innocence. the last panel is this

which is something that people send to me a lot bc wow that's so you!

this is all to say that i live my life like this. i get my shitty body rocked by flashbacks especially after being abused on & off for 22 years. the things that have been working for me have been sleeping for more than 2 hrs & also trying to kill the part of me that instinctively goes "i don't have time to sleep"

my ch 62 moment started because i was running to the er after an urgent care nurse went "oh yeah dude the months long debilitating migraines probably are not good". complained a lot about how i didn't have time to be in pain bc i was putting together stuff for a zine fair. i had to uber there coz it was so unbearably painful despite being loaded tf up on painkillers. the guy who drove me looked exactly like my abuser there was a song playing that was named after the place where i was abused. he was very sweet but i did relive in vivid detail the moments where my abuser drove me to the er for migraines. this one was different coz i wasn't sitting in the passenger's seat or being antagonized for lying

it was very bad. i got home & collapsed instantly. i woke up & went yeah ok fuck it i need to do something cool that goes hard but i had to wait coz of deadlines

i met my deadline. the fair went great despite running on 2 hrs of sleep & i got consigned coz of a zine i wrote in a single day while in a state of complete delirium. i stumbled over the word consignment when i was given the paper at the distro. now i'm having my fun trauma doodle which i tried very hard to rationalize as good practice or i'm studying or i'm going to make this into a print. i think it's just nice

a sign that i'm getting better is that i've let stories move me again. this was the first time i realized that. i hope to god it is not the last