#should i do a part two?

[asolareclipses]

“Isn’t she a beaut?”

“A what?”

“Gods Nico, you never know what i’m talking about.” Leo sighed, turning his attention away from the chariot he was just boasting about.

“Maybe because you never make any sense,” Nico rolled his eyes anticipating the next comment about to leave Leo’s mouth.

“Or…you’re just an old abuelo,” Leo failed to hold back his smirk.

Nico glared at him, he didn’t speak spanish but he’d heard that word enough to know what it meant. “Call me that one more time fire boy and you’ll wish you died the first time.”

“Holy smokes! Someone’s feisty today,” Leo raised his hands signifying a truce. “Anyways, moving back to the important things, just look at this masterpiece!” Leo gestured back to his creation.

As Nico’s eyes move to scan over the chariot, he had to try not to be visibly impressed. It was incredible. Each wheel had hundreds of gears all lined with celestial bronze and steel. The sides and rims danced with various contraptions, every piece was delicately crafted with the upmost detail. It looked as if it was built to withstand whatever may come in its way.

“You built this in a week?” Nico asked, hoping his awe wasn’t evident in his tone.

“Yeah,” Leo shrugged. “Perfect for the race don’t you think?”

Yeah? Nico almost sang his inner praises to Leo at that moment. But he knew if he were to boast Leo’s ego like that, he wouldn’t see the end of it for days.

“It’s not bad..” Nico spoke carefully.

Leo smirked, “Finally glad you decided to be on my team?”

“I didn’t decide anything,” Nico said. “You begged me for weeks and weeks on end until I said yes, just so you would leave me alone.”

“Hm, funny. I don’t remember that happening.”

“Leo-“

“Anyways- You said you had the horses taken care of?” Leo masterfully changed the subject.

Nico nodded with a sigh.

Leo stared at him, before looking around as if he were expecting something. “Well…where are they?”

“Right, you might want to step back.” Nico suggested.

“Step back why would I-“ Leo was cut off by the ground beginning to rumble, kicking up dust and small rocks. “Right that’s why,” he hurriedly stepped backwards.

The grass shivered and after a moment of rumbling, a bone popped out from the ground. It was then followed by another and another. Soon several bones came together forming two skeletal horses. They moved similar to regular horses, if regular horses had no skin or organs.

Nico stepped back, admiring his work. In the back of his mind he imagined the future lecture he’d receive from Will. ‘What did I say about unnecessary power usage?’ Still, looking at the horses, Nico figured it was worth it.

“Woah,” Leo smiled. “That’s so much cooler than a regular horse, or even a robot one.”

“More durable too, any attack and they’ll just reassemble.”

“Dude!” Leo was now practically jumping up and down, “we are so going to win this!”

Part of Nico wanted to join Leo in the excited jumping. But the other part of him thought that would be out of character; what this ‘character’ of himself was though, he didn’t know. Nico had struggled with displaying his excitement, every time he felt that burst of joy. That buzz of happiness. It reminded him of when he was younger, first arriving at camp with that same feeling. He wondered where that little boy had gone.

A horn blew, drawing Nico out of thoughts.

“That’s Chiron,” Leo said. “Time to head to the starting line.” A devilish grin appeared on his face that made Nico a little nervous. Clearly Leo’s chariot was armed with machinery that would even make the Stoll brothers jealous.

As they stood in the chariot at the starting line, Nico rethought all his life decisions. Why had he agreed to do this race again? At the time it seemed like the only way to get Leo to leave him alone, since he had been profusely begging Nico to team up with him every day. Now Nico couldn’t decide which one was worse, and annoying Leo or a brutal chariot race. Suddenly a cold chill ran down Nicos spine, he couldn’t place it but something was wrong.

Before he could dig deeper into this feeling, Chiron blew his horn again, signaling the beginning of the race. The chariot promptly took off, immediately blasting ahead with the upmost speed. Nico had to grip the railing just to not go flying off, struggling as the winds made it hard to keep his eyes open.

The Athena chariot tried to launch a net from behind them in an attempt to catch the chariot, but it wasn’t fast enough. Instead, the net came flying back at their chariot getting caught in the wheels and sending the campers into a panic. At the same time the Stoll brothers were shooting some contraption they’d made at the Ares cabin. When resulted in both chariots veering off track and into the woods.

As they continued to speed up, Nico watched as all the other chariots got farther and farther away. He’d began to think this was going to be a lot easier than he’d initially thought.

“Works just like a dream!” Leo yelled over the winds.

Nico nodded, pointing to the floating finish line, Chiron had decided the chariots needed to not just be fast but be able to account for height too. Of course for Leo that had been an easy task. For the others, well they had to hope their pegasuses were strong

Sooner than expected they were nearing the finish line, and Nico waited for something to go wrong. He was sure the others would catch up and give them a hard time, but when he looked back the other chariots were still lagging behind.

Then a hint of smoke began to fill the air, slowly becoming stronger. Nico looked around, the chariot was shaking now. A deep rumbling that shook his whole body. More smoke started pouring out from the golden edges, polluting Nico’s lungs.

Leo looked shocked, rushing around as he tried to find the culprit of the smoke. “I don’t get what’s wrong?”

A fire sprung up and danced along the rims of the chariot, Nico stepped away, coughing as his lungs begged for clean air. He looked at Leo with panic in his eyes at the same time Leo seemed to realize that Nico wasn’t immune to smoke.

“Oh gods what do we do?” Leo called out.

Turns out Nico didn’t need to answer that question because in a blast of light the chariot exploded, sending them both flying.

The world went black.

—

Why did every creation of his blow up? That’s what Leo wondered as he plummeted from the sky. He figured he would turn into a Leo pancake when he hit the ground, splat.

The idea would’ve made him laugh if he weren’t currently falling to his death. Leo could still see the flaming chariot above him, another masterpiece blown to pieces. Maybe that would be his legacy, the demigod who destroyed everything he made.

The wind was fast as he fell, blowing through his hair and stinging his eyes. It was eerily familiar, probably because it wasn’t the first time he’d fallen from the sky. As he fell further, Leo tightly shut his eyes, expecting to hit the ground any second. But instead he felt something hit him. Well, less like hit and more like grab. When he opened his eyes, he almost jumped out of his skin.

Jason had caught him, he was now face to face with him. Startlingly close. All Leo could see were his striking icy blue eyes. He felt Jason’s arms tightly secured around his waist, and he felt the breath of relief Jason sighed when he realized Leo was safely in one piece.

Why Leo obsessed over each of these small incriminate details, he would never say.

“Thanks superman,” Leo grinned nervously. He hoped the blush across his face wasn’t as noticeable as it felt.

Jason glared at him as they began to descend to the ground. “Next time i’ll let you fall.”

Leo was about to make another comment when his heart dropped, “Nico.”

Jason’s eyes widened as he looked up at the chariot. They seemed to flicker across the sky, as he tried to locate the other chariot rider. “Oh gods.”

Splash.

Just in time Leo turned to see Nico plunge into the lake, Jason had been too far to reach him seeing as they’d somehow been blasted in two different directions.

Leo’s shirt was still smoking from the explosion and his bones felt like jelly, but it didn’t stop him from rushing to the lake as soon as they touched the ground.

Will had gotten there first, he’d always managed to get there first. He began dragging Nico from the water, a crowd of panicked demigods forming around them.

As soon as Nico was pulled to shore Leo stumbled his way over, pushing through the crowd. “Is he okay? Is he breathing? Oh gods this is all my fault.” He stuttered and tripped over his words as the guilt built up inside his stomach like rocks. He shouldn’t have made Nico join this stupid race, he should’ve known it would go wrong. Everything he did always went wrong.

“Leo, don’t say that.” Jason stepped forward putting a hand on Leo’s shoulder.

Leo wanted to believe him but the guilt was overpowering it consumed his mind.

He silently watched as Will hummed placing his hand on Nico’s chest. Leo didn’t know what he’d do if Nico didn’t wake up, but luckily he did. Shooting up, coughing and spluttering, Leo recognized the look of relief that flashed across Wills face.

Jason’s hand gripped Leo’s shoulder tighter as he remembered to breathe. Suddenly his adrenaline rush crashed and so did he. His knees went weak and he would’ve fallen if Jason hadn’t caught him, again.

“You okay?” Jason asked softly. A warm tone that felt delicate and strange, yet it reassured Leo every time he heard it.

Leo nodded, looking back at Nico who was smothered in a hug from Will. He seemed to be repeatedly telling Will he was okay, despite him being dripping wet with several burnt holes in his shirt.

Nicos seemed to search the crowd until he locked eyes with Leo, he figured Nico would be incredibly pissed off at him. But he wasn’t, his eyes flashed a look of concern before he mouthed you okay?

Leo nodded as convincingly as he could, overly aware of Jason’s warm presence behind him, being the only thing holding him up.

The crowd was dispersing as Will managed to pull Nico to his feet, draping his arm across his shoulders. “Both of you,” he looked towards Leo, “infirmary. Now.”

On the way, Jason did most of the walking, as Leo’s new jelly legs hadn’t regained their sense of feeling yet. His whole body was aching by the time they’d reached the infirmary. Turns out, being exploded hurts. Shouldn’t have been surprising as he’d been exploded before.

As Leo sat on the infirmary bed his mind was spinning. He thought through every piece of bronze, every gear, wondering what had gone wrong. He had double, scratch that, triple checked to make sure everything was in tip top shape. Yet something still went wrong, seemingly out of nowhere. He replayed when the fire broke out, despite his frantic waving and patting down of the fire it didn’t extinguish. The realization hit him like a semi truck.

“Greek fire,” he said out of nowhere while Jason and Will rushed around; checking that he and Nico weren’t severely injured.

“What?” Jason said, his hand freezing in place as he picked up a bandage.

Nico inhaled sharply, looking at Leo as if he immediately understood. After hanging out for so long Nico had learned how to understand whatever thought process Leo was on, “That’s what it was, that’s why it kept burning. Why was it in the chariot?”

“I don’t know,” Leo sighed. He racked his brain for any contraptions that would lead to the emergence of greek fire. But he was sure that it wasn’t built into his chariot at all. “I never used greek fire, I don’t get how it would just erupt like that…unless…”

Jason’s eyes widened, “Do you think someone put it there on purpose?”

Leo met his eyes, he knew an accusation like this was dangerous. It meant that someone intentionally sabotaged their chariot, in a way that could only be intended to kill.

“But why would someone try to hurt you with fire?” Jason asked.

Leo felt his heartbeat stick in his throat, “Maybe I wasn’t the one they were intending to harm.”

He looked over at Nico whose face was now unreadable.

“You’re saying someone tried to kill Nico?” Will asked, his tone laced with anger.

“That or they meant to injure him severely, I guess they didn’t account for the explosion preventions I had in place.” Leo replied.

“Explosion preventions?” Jason asked, his eyebrow tilting up in the way it always did when he was confused.

“Yeah, I figured with my track record i’d add an extra layer of protection. Something that would lessen the impact of a possible explosion. That’s why we went flying away and not…well everywhere.”

“First of all, that’s impressive.” Jason spoke, “Secondly, who would intentionally try to hurt Nico?”

No one answered. None of them could fathom the idea that someone in camp would deliberately do something like this. Leo grasped at straws to find meaning, to find an excuse as to why this happened. But there was nothing. He knew Nico had never done any harm to cause this, he’d been nothing but a hero. He thought that everyone knew that, that everyone should know that. So why did this happen?

“We should talk to Chiron,” Jason said, breaking the heavy silence that filled the room.

—

Will was fuming. Almost literally. He was sure if he’d been Leo his whole body would be aflame. The idea that someone had targeted Nico in such a way, was impossible for him to swallow. His anger felt hot, it bubbled up like a volcano inside of him. He could feel it ready to erupt any second as he dug his nails into his palm.

Then a light touch pulled him from his inner turmoil. A cold hand had slipped its way between his fingers, releasing the tension. Will looked over at Nico and felt a wave of guilt, he hadn’t thought about how Nico must be feeling now.

Years ago Will had told Nico that he was welcome at camp, that no one had pushed him away. Now someone had tried to kill him.

His guilt was followed by fear. Will tightly squeezed Nico’s hand, pouring every ounce of assurance into the touch and praying in his mind that this situation wouldn’t influence Nico to run away again. Just the thought of Nico suddenly disappearing like he had years ago made his heart feel like it was being suffocated slowly. He had to remind himself Nico was okay, he was right by his side.

Explaining what had happened to Chiron was the easy part, it was Dionysus who was difficult.

“We must find this traitor at once!” Mr D. stood up slamming the table, vines began to crawl up from the floor and around the table legs.

Will had never seen him so mad. Of course, if it were anyone else he’d probably just shrug it off. But this was Nico. So Mrs D. was reasonably pissed.

“We have to handle this carefully,” Chiron said; his eyes were filled with a deep sense of sadness and disappointment. He too couldn’t imagine why someone had done this.

“Carefully?” Mr. D asked, his eyes glowed with a dangerous hue of purple. “I say we round everybody up and unrelentlessly interrogate them until the rat comes out.”

“We cannot tortue innocent campers in hopes of finding the culprit,” Chiron calmly explained.

“We can’t. I can.”

“Then you would be punished by several angry gods.”

Mr D. had no response this time, sighing as he sat back down. The vines following suite as they shrank back into the floorboards.

“I don’t understand who would’ve done this, and why now?” Jason said, his eyes seemed to be clouded in worries.

“Leo, is there anyway this could’ve been a prank taken too far?” Chiron asked, there was a sort of desperation in his eyes.

“I really wish it was, but there’s no way they couldn’t of known about the precautions. I added the explosion barrier last second. The greek fire must’ve been somewhere near the engine, whoever put it there wanted the chariot to catch fire and explode. Midair,” Leos voice was somber, he leaned listlessly on his elbows which set on the table.

Jason watched Leo carefully, his face seemed to analyze Leo’s every movement, every word. Will recognized his attentiveness.

Chiron sighed, “We will investigate this. Perhaps there is someone, something, whispering things to the demigods again.”

“We can talk to Clovis,” Will added. “If it’s something to do with dreams or visions he might be able to help.”

Chiron nodded, “Just be careful. I don’t know how whoever did this will react if they catch on that we are suspicious.”

Will nodded, he couldn’t help but notice how silent Nico had been. He seemed to be lost in thought. Will wish he could crawl into his brain and disintegrate all the negative thoughts.

It appeared Mr D. was also concerned, his face flashed with worry as he looked over at Nico.

“We’ll talk to Clovis tomorrow,” Will made the executive decision. “You two need rest.”

Jason agreed, not allowing Leo to protest by quickly grabbing him and dragging him out the door way. “Let’s go hotshot.”

It was dark, a cold breeze blowing through camp as Will and Nico walked; a blanket of silence lay between them. Nico seemed to be trapped inside his mind again, his eyes dancing with unspoken worries.

“You okay?” Will asked as softly as possible, reaching out to touch Nico’s shoulder.

Nico nodded, “I guess.”

Will frowned, “You guess?” He expected Nico to lie and hit him with a ‘I’m fine’ like he normally did.

“I’m not sure what to think to be honest.” Nico replied, he began chewing on his bottom lip; a nervous habit Will had taken note of several times.

“Yeah...” Wills voice was quiet, his racked his mind for the perfect thing to say, but came back with nothing.

The two of them kept walking as Nico slightly leaned into Wills touch, despite his uncertainty he still sought comfort.

“I’ll stay in your cabin tonight,” Will paused, “to protect you.”

Nico face spread into a smile, a smile that punched Will right in his stomach. He felt a sense of relief to see him smile, “Yeah i’m sure that’s the reason.”

“What?” Will raised his hands in false defense, “It’s a perfectly reasonable excuse.”

“Uh huh, super convincing.” Nico’s voice was coated with sarcasm, which was a stark contrast to the smile that danced across his face.

“It’s an excuse that would hold up in court, you know i’m not a lawyer but I know these things-“

Nico cut him off by grabbing his hand, “Come on sunshine.” He tugged Will lightly towards his cabin, it was obvious he didn’t want to be alone. That’s not to say Will didn’t want to stay with him on his own accord, obviously it was a little bit for himself. But mostly for Nico, mostly.

—

“Gods Leo use your legs.”

“I can’t they feel like jello, my arms too, and my-my everything!” Leo whined as he let himself be dragged along by Jason.

“You sure you didn’t hit your head in the explosion too?” Jason feigned annoyance. He was intentionally bantering with Leo, trying to boost the mood. Anything that could distract him from the fact of a potential murderer in camp was good, and Leo was really good at distracting.

“I think the explosion hit everything,” Leo stumbled. Jason quickly caught him, snaking his hand around Leo’s waist. He hoped Leo couldn’t hear his heartbeat which was pounding so loudly in his ears.

“You’re clearly incapable of walking,” Jason sighed. He figured he was getting quite good at acting as he almost believed his own false annoyance. “Just let me carry you or at this rate we’re going to be eaten by harpy’s.”

Leo smirked, “If you insist.”

Leo was a light weight against Jason’s back as he locked his arms around Leo’s legs; and when Jason walked, Leo’s arms dangled from around his shoulders. Then with a sigh he rested his chin on the top of Jason’s head.

“Dang the weather is pretty nice up here,” Leo said, his hands absently drumming against Jason’s shirt.

“Enjoy it while it lasts,” Jason replied, earning a small thump against his chest.

Leo paused as he noticed where Jason was headed, “Correct me if i’m wrong, but this does not look like the way to my cabin.”

“Well..” Jason almost panicked looking for any excuse, “I figure you need to be watched over. You know, with your jello legs and brain.”

“Aww,” Leo teased, “are you scared?”

Jason tried to bite back a smile when his lame excuse succeeded. “Yes, terrified.”

“Don’t worry Jace, I’ll protect you from the big bad scary Zeus statue.” Leo giggled as he tightened his arms around Jason.

Jason smiled, he didn’t say the real reason he’d wanted Leo to stay with him. He didn’t say it was because he worried about his safety, that he didn’t want him beating himself up with guilt. Or that he’d seen Will sneak into the Hades cabin and felt a sense of envy.

Jason contentedly carried Leo on his back into the cabin; and as they entered Leo seemed to shrink against Jason whispering, “He’s looking at me,” before bursting into giggles.

“Now you know how I feel every night,” Jason complained. He walked over to his bed, where he’d recently gotten a divider; placing it so that his view of the statue was obscured. When he reached the bed he turned and promptly dropped Leo onto his bed.

“Ouch,” Leo said, sprawling out on the bed with his eyes closed and tongue stuck out as if he were emulating roadkill.

“Looks like jello boy died, what a shame.”

Leo opened one of his eyes and when he saw Jason was still staring at him he closed it again; a grin began spreading across his face, though he’d tried to hold back.

“You leave me no choice,” Jason rubbed his hands together, creating a harmless amount of static electricity. “Clear!” He called out thrusting his hands towards Leo.

A small shock was produced and Leo sprung up falling onto the floor with a yelp, pieces of his curly hair stuck up in the static.

Jason burst into laughter, almost doubling over as his whole body shook.

“What the hades man,” Leo looked up at him with wide eyes.

“I resurrected you,” Jason said between giggles. He’d laughed so hard his eyes began to water.

Leo stood up, patting down his hair. “Okay, i’ve been resurrected before and it did not feel like that.”

Jason shrugged, “What can I say? I’m too good.”

Leo shoved him lightly, pretending to be mad although he was still smiling. “Whatever, because of that you’re sharing the bed.”

“Fine.” Jason pretended it was an inconvenience. In reality he was desperate to be near Leo, to be by his side in any way possible. As close as possible. Leo emanated this warmth in a way Jason had become addicted to. It was a warmth that filled his bones and soul completely and fully.

So when Leo curled up next to him, it took all of Jason’s willpower not to wrap his arms around him and bask in the warmth. Just being beside him had to be enough, yet still he yearned for the full closeness.

Soon he heard the soft breathing from Leo next to him, the moonlight from the window filtering in and sparkling my across his face. His eyelashes look so delicate in the light and the splash of freckles across his face started to resemble a constellation. Jason almost hoped that the moment would last forever; that tomorrow wouldn’t come. He didn’t want to face the harsh truth that someone in camp had tried to hurt his friends. He didn’t want to leave Leo’s side. Not again. The fear of losing him was always so strong because he’d lost him before, they’d both lost each other. Now they were together again and Jason prayed that they could stay that way.

But he doubted anyone was listening to that prayer.

(Part Two)

[katsuizu-stuff]

Just remember in another universe…

kid bakugo took kid deku’s hand when he fell into the small river

kid bakugo would have stand up for kid deku when others picked on him

deku and bakugo are in different school’s (bakugo is at UA and deku is in a public high school)

deku still gets bullied even if it isn’t bakugo specifically

deku stopped caring about bakugo and paid no attention to bakugo

deku never went to ground beta and bakugo stood there waiting for him to come

deku never told bakugo about OFA and bakugo would’ve find out about OFA just like the rest of the class

bakugo didn’t rip his paper/letter that deku wrote to him personally

bakugo was to late to save deku and deku got impaled or would be dead

bakugo wouldn’t have found out that he is the closest person to deku

[sunnynwanda]

Errors in translation

"Herzchen, stop that," Villain frowns, dodging the car that flies right over their head. "That asshat needs to die, you know that better than anyone."

"The fuck did you just call me?" Hero catches a piece of debris mid-air, stopping it from crushing the man shaking on the ground. Pathetic. "That asshat is still a governmental official. You can't just kill him off."

"It means idiot in my mother tongue," Villain makes another attempt to crush the corrupt judge, failing when the Hero covers the aforementioned asshat with their own body. "He let a serial killer go!"

"I know that!" Hero screams at the top of their lungs, pissed off both at Villain and the judge. The latter deserved every torture Villain could inflict on them. Hero couldn't deny that. "Killing him won't fix it."

"It will if his successor knows what happened to him." They weren't wrong, though Hero would never admit to it. But they needed Villain's reputation to be clean of murder. Ever since they had agreed to collaborate in ensuring safety for the city. Villain's official reason was their desire to be the sole criminal of the city. Hero knew they wanted a safe place for their little sister, that now lived with them. And Hero would have less work to do, making it a win-win situation.

"Let me deal with this, okay?" Hero requests, gracing Villain with their pleading puppy eyes. Always works.

"Ugh, do whatever you want, just stop looking at me like that!" They exclaim, taking a step back. "You're disgusting."

Hero shakes their head to keep a smile from forming on their face when they hear a whimper from behind them. Ugh, the asshat. 

"I have no idea what you did to him, but I applaud you,Herzchen" Villain smirks, striding towards the edge of the roof. Hero shrugs, placing a hand over their eyes to cover them from the sun. "I heard he got arrested."

"Sure did," Hero is smug, and they know it. "Told ya, let me deal with it."

"Killing him would still be more effective," they claim, no longer hiding their grin. Hero nods, getting up to continue their nightly patrol.

"Next time you feel inclined for homicide, call me first?" They step off the building but remain floating in front of Villain. "I might convince you to stop."

Villain watches the streets beneath their feet, lights blurry because of how tired their eyes are. "If there's anyone who can do that, it's you, Herzchen." They whisper, part of them hoping the wind will conceal their words from their rival's acute hearing. It does not.

"Stop calling me that!" Hero's exasperation brings an unwanted smile to Villain's face, so they shake their head standing up to leave the meeting point before it forms on their face. 

"It's not "idiot", is it? That thing you keep calling me." Hero's voice almost drowns in the wind. They know Villain won’t tell them. They also know that they won’t be able to sleep today. That’s what they get for crushing on the ‘enemy’.

Villain freezes in place, a soft smirk fighting its way onto their face before they leap into the darkness. "’Course not."

Masterlist

[rory-butnot-gilmore]

Mundane Moments

Joel forgets to cancel his second date with you when Sarah gets sick, you show up at the house thinking you’re still going , and instead get to meet his daughter for the first time.

Pairing: joel x fem!reader

themes/warnings: a bit of an age gap (6 yrs), fluffy lovey dovey stuff, pre-outbreak, a bit of angsty sadness, should there be more parts? i think so but idk. ok thanks byeee

june 1995

You were anxious, trying to decide the best time of early to show up at your date’s house. He had insisted on just picking you up, but you were staying later at work so you insisted back that you just meet him there. It was casual, just a movie and then some dinner. So you just decided to put on jean shorts with the satin blouse you had worn to work that day. As a joke you bought him flowers, to tease the fact he was offended you wouldn’t let him pick you up.

Technically you met Tommy Miller first, at the bar with your friends. He had been flirting with one of your best girlfriends, and offered to buy you all drinks. Then about an hour later, his brother showed up. Joel was older than the rest of you, six years older than you at the time. Everyone teased him about looking like the grumpy-old dad hanging around. Eventually Tommy had snuck off somewhere with your friend, and Joel looked bored of every other person there.

“You know, if you pretend like you’re having a good time, they might leave you alone,” You whispered, as you sat down in the chair next to him at the table. All of your other friends were off doing who knows what.

“Tommy dragged me along here, I told him I really didn’t want to, my daughter has a soccer game in the morning and..” He paused as if he had just said the wrong thing, “Sorry, you don’t care about that, you’re what? Twenty-one? A bar on a Friday night is your playground,”

You laughed, “I’m twenty-two actually, and really I’m only here to make sure no one ends up dead, also who said I didn’t care about your daughter’s soccer game? How old?”

“She’s six, her name is Sarah, I’ve got a picture here..”

After Joel showed you the picture of his little girl, the two of you sat and talked all night. Eventually he helped you get your friends back home, offering to drive whoever was still there so you didn’t have to call a cab. No one else wanted to leave at that moment, but you took him up on the offer. During the ride back to your apartment, the two of you continued to ask little questions about one another. He even got out to open your door, and walk with you to the front door. That was when he asked you out on your first date, and it went perfectly. So perfect that half-way through you both knew you wanted a second one.

You pulled into his driveway, and knocked on the front door. When Joel opened it though, he looked shocked to see you there, then disappointed. He was still wearing pajama pants, and an old t-shirt. Then you started to feel embarrassed, and thinking that you might have misread the situation. Maybe even forgot what days you had decided on.

“Did I..”

“I called your home phone instead of the work phone, I left a voicemail, I have to reschedule, Sarah has the stomach flu and she’s been puking all day,” Joel sighed, “Y/n I am so damn sorry, she’s only been sick one other time, and I’m trying to get her to eat but everything makes her more sick,”

“Joel, take a breath,” You smiled, and behind him you saw a little girl in a nightgown/t-shirt that was clearly Joel’s come into view behind him, “Can I come in?”

“Uh, yeah, place is a mess but yeah,” Joel turned around and saw Sarah standing there, he picked her up and moved back so you could come inside. You smiled at the fact that it really was a mess, and he wasn’t just being dramatic. Then you noticed Joel’s attempts at getting her to eat, and all of it was definitely too heavy for a sick six year old’s stomach.

“How about this, I am going to run back out to the store, and get stuff to make a soup that my grandma always made for me, and some gatorade for her too,” You looked at everything on the ground and table, “Then I can grab us some drinks, and help you get this place back in order,”

“I really couldn’t ask you to do that Y/n, if you want to just head home and I’ll call you when she’s-”

“Oh you’re not asking, I’m telling how this night is about to go, Sarah is that okay with you?” You smiled at her, “Oh, I’m Y/n Y/l/n, I’ve heard all about you being a soccer champion,”

“I’m Sarah Miller,” She smiled back at you, before she whispered rather loudly to Joel: “Uncle Tommy was right daddy she is super pretty she should stay.”

Joel smiled at her, before he told you to wait so he could grab his wallet for you. After he gave you some cash, you left for the store. You got all of the necessary ingredients, and even got Sarah some popsicles and crackers too. When you got back to the Miller house, Joel was waiting by the front door to help you with some of the bags. He got Sarah settled on the couch, with some water mixed with her Gatorade. After he turned on a movie for her, he came to the kitchen to help you.

“Do you need anything? Like ingredients wise? We got some seasoning up top,” He sounded nervous, and it was making your heart swell that much more. Joel looked like he belonged on the cover of some magazine that talked about how to build a log cabin with your bare hands. He was muscular, and incredibly handsome. Yet, seeing how nervous and awkward he was fumbling around his own kitchen was enough to make you like him even more.

“No, I pretty much have everything I need, really it’s just like canned chicken noodle soup, just no chicken or noodles,” You continued to cut up some of the carrots, “The broth will help her stomach, and the veggies will give her some kind of nutrients,”

“And the popsicles?”

“Oh, those are just for fun,” You shrugged. Joel looked at you for a second, a soft smile on his face, “Actually, if it’s not too much to ask, could I borrow some clothes? If I’m not going out into public I would really like to get out of these,”

“Yeah, yeah I’ll go grab you some stuff.” Joel went and grabbed you what he called his “old tshirt” but you could tell it was relatively new, and a pair of sweatpants. You had him take over on making sure the carrots and celery got softer, and went to change. When you got back into the kitchen, he was pouring some into a bowl for Sarah.

“I grabbed us some actual food too by the way, I figured we could make it after she gets to sleep,” You offered and Joel paused for a second.

Then he walked over to you, and pulled you into a kiss. When he kissed you at the door the night of your first date, you were convinced nothing could be better. This kiss right now though, topped every kiss you had ever had. Joel held your waist, pulling you closer into him. Your entire body melted against him, pure bliss filling up every part of your body. It wasn’t until the two of you heard a quiet giggle from the doorway that you broke apart.

“I’m soooo telling Uncle Tommy.” Sarah teased and both you and Joel were bright red. He picked her up and took her back to the couch. You followed behind with her soup, and sat down with them to watch the movie she had decided on. After Sarah had soup (and a popsicle) in her stomach, Joel carried her upstairs to her bedroom.

You went back to the kitchen and put the leftover soup in a Tupperware container. You got started on making burgers for you and Joel . By the time he came back in the kitchen, you were putting the patties on a plate for you both.

“I left the stove on low, I wasn’t sure if you wanted cheese on it or not,” You started making your own plate, and Joel grabbed two beers out of the fridge for you both.

“Hey, I didn’t really, y’know properly apologize for our plans being ruined,” Joel sighed, as he put his patty back on the pan to let some cheese melt onto it, “I owe you an actual date,”

“I mean, the bar was incredibly low, but I think this might be one of the best dates I have ever had,” You took a bite of your burger, and watched as his face lit up, “Sarah is even cuter than I imagined she be,”

“Yeah, she knows it too, she seems to really like you,” Joel turned the stove off, “It’s just been her and I for a long time now, so I wasn’t even planning on introducing you guys until I could see where this was going,”

“I’m sorry if I intruded,”

“Hey, no, you didn’t and she was able to actually keep something in her stomach without wanting to puke again,” Joel cut you off, “Last time she was sick the neighbors next door helped out, but they’re out of town right now,”

“You can tell me to shut up if this is pushing too hard, but is her mom in the picture? I would hate to step on toes,”

“No, she um, she split when Sarah was still a baby,” Joel took a bite of his food, the silence settling between you two, “I know that’s pretty heavy, but yeah Sarah never even knew her really,”

“I can’t imagine ever doing that to a person, especially my own baby,” You frowned, “Well even in the few hours I’ve known her, and the three weeks I’ve known you, she fucked up big time,”

“Sarah and I get by, we’ve got Tommy too,” Joel looked at you, “And hopefully you haven’t been scared off yet and maybe we can start throwing you into mix?”

“Are you kidding? Sarah and I are besties now, didn’t you hear? She’s going to make me a bracelet and everything, so I guess you get that third date Miller.”

Joel nodded, a small smirk on his face. The two of you finished your food, and went out to the couch to watch a movie together. Joel wrapped his arm around you, as you leaned into his side. Your head was somewhat resting against his chest, and you could hear every heartbeat and breath. It didn’t take long before you found yourself hoping for another kiss. Luckily, he seemed to have the same idea, and tilted your chin up towards him.

His lips were soft against yours, and your entire body was practically tingling from just his touch. Soon enough you were on his lap, your hands in his hair, as the kiss deepened. Joel’s fingers were calloused, but the way they traced against your lower back was so gentle and soft. He started to kiss down your neck, your head leaning back a little bit to give him more space. When he started to lightly suck on the soft spot of your neck, you couldn’t help but whimper a little. You tugged his hair, and could feel that same smirk from earlier against your neck.

Things probably would have escalated even further, if it weren’t for the sound of Sarah getting out of bed. You both were quick to fix to yourselves, and go back to just sitting next to each other. Joel got up when he heard Sarah actually come down to the bottom of the stairs, you followed to go check upstairs and make sure that she didn't need her room to be cleaned up.

"Hey baby girl, you okay?" Joel whispered, picking her up. She nodded and laid her head against his shoulder, her eyes heavy.

"Can I snuggle with you and Y/n?" Sarah got the words out in between her yawns. Joel looked at you for a second.

"I can head out if you need me to?" You offered, you didn't want to intrude anymore on their night than you already had. Sarah shook her head quickly though, and so did Joel.

The three of you went back to the couch, and you switched the movie to something else Sarah would want to watch. Sarah requested that she get to be in the middle, and she laid her head in Joel's lap with her feet across you. Joel wrapped his arm back around you and pulled you closer into his side. Soon enough, the three of you were all asleep.

All snuggled together on the couch, with the beginnings of a short lived happy family.

part two

[slepsh]

| Tighnari headcanons |

As always, male reader.

We stan a fluffy-eared boy.

I kinda feel like writing fluff so I'll do that.

He loves it when you rub his ears, he'll lean in for more pats from the you.

Would just cling to you when he's tired.

Fluffy tail. Definitely hides things in it. Also, would wrap it around your leg sometimes.

Suggests you books, tv shows, foods, restaurants, and even who you should avoid!

Gives you random flowers he finds when he's looking in the forests of Sumeru.

Cuddles you before and after getting in bed, and when you wake up.

Hates clothes that are too tight. Mostly on his knees.

Well, this was something. Also, i wrote this in class, so I'm sorry it's short.

[siriustaylorsversion]

some of my favorite blondie moments on twitter

[willowbird]

Pretty sure my prompt did get eaten! Which has happened to me before so it’s all good. I’m pretty sure it was something along the lines of; Neil is a badass and the foxes (including the freshmen) learn more about his past. Thank you so much!! Also another prompt that could be cool would be the foxes going back in time for some reason(rip in the universe or something scientific) and meet young mean neil on the run. Anyways take your time and if these prompts don’t call to you feel free to ignore!

I have a smol obsession with the idea of Aaron going back in time. This is not the first and certainly won't be the last time I write something to that effect :)

Hope you like!

-------

To say that Aaron woke up with a headache would be similar to describing that guy from Final Destination who got impaled by a bunch of logs as having gotten "a few splinters". His head felt like it was fucking splitting in two, pounding like his brain was trying to make a break for it.

Jesus fuck, had he been drinking last night? Was this a hangover? It must be, because he couldn't remember a damn thing and to be perfectly fucking honest he couldn't be bothered to try all that hard to do so - he was spending too much energy being in agony.

Groaning, Aaron gripped his head, pressing the heels of his palms into his temples. Applying pressure to the tender areas almost hurt more, but it also helped in that weird way it helps when you really dig in to a bad knot during a massage. "Ugh... fuck fuck fuck..." he hissed as he tried rubbed at his temples.

The scrape of footsteps suddenly very loud beside his ears made him flinch - and also made him realize that he was flat on his back. His awareness snowballed from there - it was cold and he was on the ground outside, chipped pavement digging into his back and the back of his head. Something nearby smelled like a dead rat in an easy bake oven, and every few seconds small icy droplets hit his face like maybe it was starting to rain.

"That's a really stupid place to take a nap." The voice was almost familiar, but Aaron couldn't place how or why and he wasn't sure he was up to opening his eyes.

"Fuck off," he growled instead, gritting his teeth and moving his hands to press against his eyes.

"Rude." Something nudged his shoulder. Aaron ignored it, but it came again, then again, and again.

With a groan, Aaron pulled his hands away from his face and opened his eyes, glaring up at the annoyance. "Will you knock it the fuck off?!"

The kid standing above him couldn't be older than ten. Even from the awkward viewpoint, Aaron could tell that the boy was a fucking pipsqueak. He was scrawny and short, wearing a baggy old sweatshirt that looked about six sizes too big on him. His hair was blond with dark roots of an indiscernible color, and was long enough to really fucking need a comb - as it was a complete mess, falling around his face, sticking up around his ears, halfway shading his eyes...

Eyes that were the kind of blue that caused wounds.

Aaron blinked. He frowned. He closed his eyes tightly then opened them again - but the eyes were the same. And there was something in the stubborn set of the kid's mouth that was familiar, too. He instantly thought of Neil, but his brother-in-law was a self-proclaimed Andrewsexual so he somehow doubted that he had a scrappy little lovechild lurking in the shadowed corners of...

Wait, where the fuck even was he?

Aaron looked around, finally registering that he was in some kind of dark alley. The sounds of a city were buzzing in the near distance - maybe a few blocks away. Wherever he was now was more residential, and it was late enough that most people were in their homes instead of out and about. Great. Exactly what he needed. The pounding in his head was finally starting to subside, though, and he would take what he could get. Slowly, he pushed himself up to a sitting position - the kid standing above him stepping quickly back to put space between them. There was a very familiar wariness in his eyes, in the tension of his thin shoulders, and in the way he balanced his weight on the balls of his feet - ready to run - that had Aaron forcibly swallowing down the paternal instinct he honestly didn't think he had the capacity for until the twins were born.

Knowing better than to offer reassurances or ask if the kid was alright, Aaron instead asked, "You know what time it is?"

It was slight, but Aaron could see the boy relax at the question. It was a reasonable thing for someone to ask who had just woken up in an alley. After a two-second hesitation, the kid pushed up the sleeve of his sweatshirt to check the watch wound about his thin wrist. It was chunky plastic, the kind he remembered from when he was a kid that would like up if you pressed the two side buttons at the same time. The kid didn't make it light up, though, he just glanced at it quickly and said, "Just past midnight."

Fuck. Midnight? Katelyn was probably worried sick. The last thing he remembered... fuck okay. He had taken the girls to school in the morning on his way to work. He'd gotten to the clinic just as it started to rain. That storm, it was fucking intense - it knocked the power out and he'd gone to reset the breaker. He'd opened the breaker box and then... nothing.

Then he woke up here with this kid kicking his shoulder.

Speaking of...

Aaron draped an arm over his knee and frowned up at the kid. "The hell are you doing running around after midnight? You're like, what, eight?"

The boy visibly bristled. "I'm eleven and a half."

Aaron lifted his hands in mock surrender. "Oh, sorry - my mistake. You're right, that's definitely old enough to be wandering around the city after midnight kicking random people in alleyways. Eleven would have been too young, but eleven and a half?" He let out a low whistle and instantly regretted it, his head still too tender to handle the sharpness of the sound.

"Fuck you," spat the eleven-and-a-half-year-old with an impressive amount of venom.

"Wow," Aaron drawled. "Kids these days. No respect for their elders."

The kid snorted. "Whatever." Then he turned to go and a sudden, strange panic surged in Aaron's chest. As if... if he let this kid just walk away something really bad was going to happen.

The pain in his head vanished like the popping of a balloon and the shock of cold water. Sudden clarity surged through him, though he couldn't have said where it came from or what it meant. All he knew was that he needed to get this kid to stay.

Swallowing down his own urgency so he didn't spook the boy, Aaron said, "What were you doing, anyway? You don't strike me as an idiot and you've got to know it's not that smart to kick strangers, especially once that are bigger than you."

The kid stopped. Then he turned back around and crossed his arms - it was a combative posture but to Aaron it seemed almost protective, like he was hugging himself.

"You don't know that," he said.

Aaron frowned. "Know what?"

"You don't know that I'm not an idiot. Could be. You don't know me."

No, he didn't, he couldn't - but Aaron somehow felt like he did.

"Well, I'm Aaron." He stayed where he was but held out a hand. The boy just stared at it until Aaron dropped it again. Okay, too soon, got it.

"Congratulations," the boy deadpanned with such on-point scathing mockery that Aaron grinned. Apparently this was the wrong reaction (though Aaron wasn't sure at this point if there was such a thing as a right reaction with this kid), because the boy instantly took a step back, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

"Thanks. I think it's a pretty big deal, too. You gonna share your name, or what?"

And there - there - was something. Because at the mention of a name, the boy flashed through so many fucking emotions Aaron might as well call him Robert Plutchik. An uneasy twist pulled in his gut and he once again thought of Neil. Those eyes, that bite, and a reaction like that to the request for a name...? No, Aaron was just reading too much into it. That was impossible.

"Or if not your name, what should I call you? I can't just keep calling you 'kid' in my head, that's weird and kind of creepy."

The boy blinked, then snorted - and for an instant he wore a small, crooked little smile that was an exact replica of Neil's. And with that smile, Aaron saw the other features of his face line up too. And... fuck, he didn't know how - but he knew for fucking certain that he was looking at an eleven-and-a-half year old Neil Josten. Or, well, whatever his name was at the time.

"Um... Kendrick."

And yeah, that solidified it.

"Like the goalie?"

The boy's, Neil's, eyes widened. Big and round and bright as diamond moons. "You know exy?!"

Aaron coughed around a laugh and nodded. He adjusted how he was sitting, crossing his legs to get more comfortable. If he stood up he thought he might spook the kid - Neil - again, so he would just stay put until he figured out what the fuck to do. "Yeah, you could say that. I played backliner for a bit, and my brother--" He stopped himself. If he said that his brother was a pro, Neil was going to want to know what team he played for, and somehow he didn't see that going over well. Either this was some kind of fucked up fever dream or he had gone back in time - and Aaron hated himself a little bit for leaning more toward time travel. This all just felt too fucking weird for a dream.

"My brother played goalie. So of course I know Kendrick."

"Goalies are so cool. I used to play backliner. Sort of. Well, I did, for a little bit. But I can't play anymore. Don't play anymore." He made a face and shrugged his shoulders. "Doesn't matter. I think goalies are way cool. Because they're all standing there and then BAM suddenly they're RIGHT THERE and WHAM the ball goes flying across the court. I would hate to be a goalie though, because they have to stand there. And I want to play on a really good team and goalies on really good teams probably get really bored. But I like being a backliner. I get to protect the goalie and fuck up the strikers. All strikers are arrogant shitheads."

He said this with the confidence of a man who knew what he was talking about - all eleven-and-a-half years of him. And really, with what Aaron knew about Neil's past, he figured the kid kind of did. Also, inside he was fucking singing because Little Neil just called Big Neil an arrogant shithead and that was some kind of exquisite justice if he said so himself.

So Aaron, of course, nodded sagely. "You are absolutely right."

Neil grinned - the crooked smile bigger and broader this time. And.. fuck, that just wasn't fair. It wasn't fair, that Aaron now had this image in his head of Neil as a grinning little kid. It was weird, and felt intrusive, and it was also so... so fucking sad. Before he could figure out what to do about that feeling, though, Neil's smile melted away like it had never been there at all, and he shifted his weight anxiously.

"Um, anyway. I should get going. Pretty stupid to be running around in the middle of the night , poking random guys to see if they're dead, y'know?"

Aaron snorted and shook his head. Then, before Neil could finish turning away and before Aaron could think too hard on the impulse, he said, "Wait, hold on." Then he dug around in his pocket, pulling out a crumpled receipt and a pen. After scribbling to make sure it worked, he wrote down Wymack's number. He knew for a fact that his old coach had had the same phone number since the nineties - so it was the only one he could think to give, and if anyone would be able to do something... it was Coach. That done, he held out the paper.

Neil eyed him warily, but curiosity won out and he stepped just close enough to snatch it. He looked at the number and frowned. "David Wymack? This isn't real. You couldn't have his number." That narrowed blue gaze dug into him with suspicion and Aaron had to force himself not to flinch (which was fucking ridiculous, by the way - because Neil was like three feet tall).

Instead, he shrugged. "Call it and find out."

Neil rolled his eyes, but he shoved the paper into his pocket. As he finally turned around to walk away, Aaron called out to him one more time, "Hey, and kid?" Neil paused, but didn't turn around. "It may not seem like it, but you've got a choice, okay? And remember it's okay to fight for yourself. It's okay to want to live, instead of just survive."

Neil's small body went so still, so stiff, that Aaron thought the addition of a breath might shatter him. Then without saying anything in response, Neil bolted - disappearing around the corner in five rapid slaps of sole to pavement.

Instinct had Aaron pushing to his feet as if to follow - but the moment he got vertical, the world went dark.

[paintedcrows]

It is imperative to me that Bill and Stan do torrid Duchess Approves roleplay and argue about character motivations

[rin-may-1103]

The Eyes of Death. Pt 2

Prev. | Master post | Next

"Robin!" Orcale cried through the coms, startling Damian as he ducked beneath a punch thrown his way. Growling, Damian Sparta kicked the goon before him, spun around, and throat-punched the last one standing.

"What?" he huffed, glancing around his area to see if he had missed something; Father was facing off against Penguin, Tim was taunting Mr. Freeze, and Jason was plowing his way through the rest of the goons down on the ground floor.

Gunshots flashed by and up toward the roof, drawing his attention.

Turning around, Damian watched as Dick jumped from the rafters and dropped two other goons with brutal precision, their guns clattering to the ground. That's four. He could still hear Steph and Cass fighting in the other room over the comms, which makes it six. (Seven if he counted Duke, who was at home resting after a long patrol) They were still up and fighting, which meant nothing was out of place.

"Your boyfriend wouldn't happen to be named Daniel Fenton, right?" Barbara's voice was strained. She practically begged him to correct her and prove she was mistaken.

Damian tensed up but rushed over to help down the goons surrounding Dick, his heart thundering away in his chest. "What happened?" he growled, drawing his katana when a goon quickly pulled a knife. The sound of metal against metal almost blocked her voice, but Damian could still make out what she said.

"He's been taken by some cultists, they're broadcasting everything. They're setting up the ritual right now; they cut his arm and are using his blood mixed with black paint to mark the ground. I'm pretty sure he's in shock, he barely reacted to the cut."

"Oh, shit!" Steph cursed, "not the boyfriend!"

"Where?" he grunted, parrying the knife away and kicking the guy over the railing. The man's scream cut out as his body hit the floor. "Robin!" Father hissed in anger, quickly tying up Penguin.

"He'll live!" Damian shouted back as he marched toward the door and reached for his grapple gun, "Oracle! Where is he?"

The others could finish up here without him, they had already dealt with what the two rouges had been planning. All that was left was to gather up the goons and hand everyone over to the GCPD. His boyfriend, who hadn't texted him to tell him he had gotten home safe because apparently he'd been kidnapped by cultists, was more important than beating the crap out of some lowly goons.

"The Financial District, warehouse seven on 4th street." she huffed, the sound of keys clicking as she sent him the live footage. Clicking the side of his mask, he was met with the sight of his boyfriend bound to a chair and glaring up at the camera. His blue eyes were filled with more annoyance than fear, but that didn't reassure Damian at all when the camera backed up and revealed Danny's heavily bleeding arm.

They must have cut an artery with how deep the wound looked. The only reason he wasn't already dead from blood loss was because of how tight the ropes were, it seemed.

"Shit," Damian hissed as he shot his grapple up at the building across the street, "make sure an ambulance is en route, Danny's going to need it. They must have cut through his radial artery if not both."

He could hear Dick hold back a gasp at his words but ignored it, as he flew toward the roof and started running. A loud thud landed behind him, followed by footsteps as Father's gruff voice echoed into his ear as they ran. "Jets on its way, it'll be faster than the car." Damian silently changed direction, continuing to jump roofs.

"I'm coming with," Dick demanded, landing a couple buildings behind them. Damian grunted in acknowledgment, not caring what they did. He needed to be there, he needed to be there thirty minutes ago; when he should have been walking Danny home like he asked him too.

"GOTHAM!" the person holding the camera shouted with a slip of paper in their other hand, allowing the camera a glimpse of the words. Danny's eyes narrowed even more, something like disbelief filling his eyes as the man continued talking, "Tonight, you shall join us as we summon the most powerful being in the world!"

"Danny looks so disappointed," Dick snorted, pulling out his own grapple at the sound of the jet approaching. Of course, Danny was disappointed, it was a waste of paper just to remember so little. Damian agreed but couldn't do anything other than huff at his brother's comment, most of his focus on watching the video.

Dick wrapped an arm around him, firing at the jet just as it rocketed overhead. They were launched into the air and dragged over buildings as the jet flew toward their destination. Father dangled across from them for a second before the three of them latched onto the rail under the jet designed for quick departure. They sat in silence as all three of them focused back on the video feed.

"Now," the leader shouted, coming into view as the cameraman backed up. Danny and the freshly painted circle were in full view, but so was the group of people off to the side. Damian recognized two of the people on the ground. Nancy and Wyatt, Danny's forcibly appointed college guides or "parents".

Damian remembers the day Danny had been introduced to them, spouting vitriol in anger about them being acephobic and how the college wouldn't allow him to switch guides. Nancy was crying, her mascara running down her face. Wyatt was deathly pale, all the blood bleeding away from his face as he watched the cultists in what looked like horrified guilt.

"Let us begin," the leader cheered, grabbing Danny's shoulders from behind him. Danny glanced worriedly at the group and then at the camera like he couldn't decide what he should focus on, subconsciously cringing away from the man behind him.

"Join me as we summon our lord and savior!" Danny narrowed his eyes in anticipation, "The great tyrant of the dead!" he now looked confused, "The embodiment of war and bloodshed!" back to worried, "The one named PARIAH DARK!" amused, because of course, his boyfriend would find the name amusing, "THE HORRIFIC GHOST KING!!!" now he was back to confused and worried.

The leader turned and walked back over to one of his followers, snatching an old book and opening it. Without any fanfare, the man began chanting, guiding his followers like he was the director of a twisted play.

"ten minutes," Father grunted, "Oracle, get everything you can on the ghost king. We need to know what we're about to run into. Call someone from Dark, we'll probably need their guide on how to deal with this."

Dick readjusted his grip, tightening his arm in reassurance as Danny's eyes glanced up and toward the rafters like he was looking for one of them. No, not like. He was looking for them; because Damian had promised him in the past that if he was ever in trouble, the bats would save him. And if not them then he would. Danny had rolled his eyes at the time, sarcastically calling him his hero. But he believed him because Damian had promised.

Damian growled as one of the cultists smashed a bowl on the ground, splattering Danny in what he had to assume was the blood and paint mixture Barbera had told him about earlier.

Damian watched as Danny glared at the black stains all over his front with disdain, trying to mutter something through the gag in his mouth the camera couldn't catch. "Is he seriously worried about his shirt?" Tim huffed over comms, the sound of police sirens growing louder.

"I would too if that's the only nice shirt I had," Steph grumbled before shouting something at someone.

"My boyfriend owns more than one shirt, Spoiler." Damian hissed.

"No offense, Damian," Steph laughed, "but your boyfriend looks like he crawled out of a dumpster after losing a fight against one of your raccoons."

"Oh, give him a break! The poor boy's just been kidnapped, of course, he looks bad." Barbera chided.

Damian went to respond but stopped to watch as another cultist stepped forward and tossed salt at Danny. Danny shook his head and glared at the cultist, only to be slapped in the face with another handful of salt for his efforts.

"That's one way to rub salt in the wound," Jason huffed, "make sure you kick that one in the dick for me."

"With pleasure," Damian grumbled, leaning back to try and see the warehouse they were heading toward. "Seven minutes," Father added, noticing how impatient Damian was starting to get.

they silently watched as the cultists continued chanting, Barbera occasionally telling them things she'd found. (She was having difficulty connecting with The Dark members, something about an unexpected mission off-world.)

Danny was starting to look tired, his face paler than usual (A hard feat, considering his boyfriend looked like a fresh corpse on a good day. If he didn't know any better, he would think his boyfriend had never spent a second in the sun his entire life.)

Suddenly, Danny started to cough, shaking his head, clenching his eyes closed in pain for a second before focusing back on the leader. "The blood loss is starting to catch up to him," Tim commented as Danny glanced up at the rafters again, "let the hospital know to have extra blood ready."

"Got it," Barbera agreed, still typing away. "No one's answering, I'm going to try Constantine, now."

"Two minutes," Father warned, getting ready to jump. Damian steadied himself, leaning forward to time his jump correctly. "Shit," Jason cursed, drawing Damian's attention back to the video in time to watch as a cultist raised a bloody blade into the air and slammed it into Danny's chest. "You need to get there, now!"

The cultist yanked out the knife and handed it to the leader, who was now standing in front of Danny. Danny's chest quickly stained red, his eyes wide in shock and horror.

"Take this lowly sacrifice as a sign of our eternal loyalty, and grace us with your presence! Your humble servants plead that your godly ears hear our prayers! Join us in this mortal realm and bequeath us your power and name to rectify the sins of our brethren!" the leader's voice echoed in the silent warehouse like a gunshot. but Damian couldn't hear a single word the man spoke as he watched Danny lean forward in pain, trying to grab at his chest.

His restrained hands pulled against the rope, causing more blood to leak from his wound, his eyes clenching shut as his left hand started glowing green. He suddenly started screaming, his voice strained like it was being ripped out of his throat, barely muffled by the gag.

A bright light flashed, spreading from where he'd been stabbed and crawling over his body. His skin turned gray, almost blue, like a body found out in a snowstorm. His hair started floating in an absent current like he was underwater. and his eyes started glowing a bright blue, growing brighter and brighter.

"NOW!" Father shouted, launching off the railing and gliding through the air. Damian didn't hesitate to follow, all his training allowing him to go on autopilot as he used his cape to guide his fall.

Danny slumped forward, his head hanging limp as the warehouse went deathly silent.

Twisting in the air, Damian aimed his grapple hook and fired. It latched onto the warehouse and tugged him forward, his fall turning into a swing as he rocketed toward the glass window. "Your Highness?" someone asked, their voices glitching in and out with the video feed.

Damian watched as the Danny in the video slowly lifted his head in time with the Danny he could see through the quickly approaching glass. Damian only had a split second to register that his boyfriend's eyes were no longer blue, but bright green before his feet smashed through the window and he was landing in a roll on the ground.

Immediately, the camera feed disappeared from his view, allowing him to focus on what was around him. Father crashed through the skylight, showering the cultists in glass as he landed on the other side of the room. Dick landed next to him, fluidly popping up from his roll.

"Shit!" someone shouted, "it's the bats!"

"run!" someone else yelled.

Damian lunged forward, burying his fist into the first cultist's face with a satisfying crunch. The warehouse flooded with loud screams and rapid movement.

"Dammit!" the leader cursed, dragging Damian's attention over to him. He had left the circle at some point, crazily looking around to try and find a quick exit.

Abandoning the cultists he was fighting, Damian quickly sprinted at the man. Unsheathing his katana, Damian attacked. The leader used the bloody knife to parry, scrambling back to get away. Damian growled, about to follow when his eyes landed on Danny's black and blood-stained face right behind the man.

Bright Lazarus green eyes stared back.

~

Danny's vision tilted, or was that just his head? It felt like he was in one of those twisty things NASA shoves their astronauts in under the claim of training for departure and reentry into Earth's atmosphere. or maybe it felt like a hundred pounds of soaked cotton balls shoved behind his eyes and lit on fire?

he couldn't tell, at this point, his head could be detached for all he knew. Wait, no. He's done that before, this feels nothing like that. So, he still had his head... but does his head still have a body???

He would glance down, but he's afraid he won't be able to lift his head again... Had he lifted his head? or had the world moved around him like it does in the realms? Where was he?

Danny's core pulsed in confusion as someone stepped over the circle, quickly followed by someone else. No one was supposed to enter unless a deal was about to be made. Had he made a deal?

Blinking, he focused his blurry vision as much as he could on the figure slowly approaching him. Had he already been looking at them? His vision tilted again, making his gut roll in nausea. A voice slowly broke through the static ringing in his ears, and his shirt suddenly pulled in frightened hands.

"Your Highness! these are the sinners I told you about!" the voice screeched, a pitch so out of the norm that Danny could only assume the voice belonged to a small fly-turned-eldritch little girl.

Wait a moment, that was his title? Your Highness? seriously? Was everyone going to be calling him that? He was the king; wasn't it supposed to be majesty??? He'll ask Dora later; now wasn't the time.

"Oh great ghost king!" the high-pitched voice cracked and lowered back to one he was starting to get familiar with, "Pariah Dark, lend me your power so I might defeat him!"

Did he seriously just call Danny, Pariah??? The man, the leader of the cult, Mr. totally-read-one-fake-ritual-book-when-he-was-a-teen-and-now-has-to-make-it-everyone's-problem, kneeled in front of Danny, his hands twisted into Danny's ruined shirt. The blurry figure froze, not moving now that Danny had broken eye contact to look down at the horrible man.

Danny might be completely out of it and have no idea what's going on anymore, (he was in so much pain, why was there so much pain? he wanted it to go away, why wasn't it going away?) but he's been trained for moments like this. He can't let anyone see him as weak, not when he has to protect the realms as is his kingly duty.

Clockwork thought it would be a good idea to drop him in the middle of a meeting with some demons right after Danny had pulled an all-nighter and fought three of his rouges. let's just say, Danny was not pleased with the old goat after that. On the other hand, every time he meets a new demon, they seem to respect him much more than before. (he's still not sure what he did to earn that, but whatever)

So, acting like nothing was wrong would be easy peasy.

Sitting up straight, like Dora taught, Danny gazed down at the man who had demanded his attention. He turned his jaw intangible, dropping the gag and allowing him to speak freely again, "why should I?" His voice was echoey, cold, and devoid of the usual emotion.

It was completely different than what it usually was. Like he was a completely different person. (He sounded like Dan) which caught Danny off guard, but he had to ignore it for now. Clockwork had said that Danny Phantom was different from King Phantom, maybe this is what he meant. (hopefully not, he hated sounding like Dan. Was this permanent? was he always going to sound like this???)

"Why?" the leader stumbled, letting go of Danny's shirt in surprise, "because I summoned you! I control you!"

He looked outraged like it was Danny's fault he was in this mess.

Snorting, Danny smirked at the man. "Why should I lend you my power when you haven't even gotten my name correct?" That was like common summoning courtesy 101, right? Frostbite said something like that... or was it Pandora? Wait... wasn't that the demon etiquette? What was the ghost-summoning etiquette then? Also, could he even lend his power to someone else??? like, demons could, but could Danny???

"Who cares!" the man snapped, picking up the knife he had dropped next to him and slashing it at Danny. He didn't even have to think as he instinctively turned his right arm intangible and snatched the man's wrist, clenching it tightly to make him drop it. He was not going to let the man stab him again, thank you very much.

his core grumbled in annoyance, scattering his thoughts for a moment. What was he doing? his arm burned like it had been shot with an ecto blast, but that wasn't right, it was cut by-

Oh, right. cultists. Gotta deal with that.

Fazing the ropes off, Danny carefully stood up. An almost silent whine drew his attention up; it was the fuzzy figure, or now that Danny could actually see a little easier, Robin. Huh, looks like the bats actually made it after all. A little late to the party, but oh well.

Wait...

Shit, he didn't need the Bats up in all of his business. Especially since everything the ritual did to him was recorded, the ghostly stuff included. (Was Damian watching? Did he think Danny was dead now? a normal person would have died right?) He'd have to clear up any misinterpretations later, right now he has to focus on gaslighting the Fuck out of Batman and his partners.

Maybe he won't even have to deal with the Justice League if he pulls this off.

ok, what do they think the situation is? A Cult recording themselves sacrificing some random dude, the dude gets stabbed in the chest (probably assumed dead, he'll have to fix that...), then some ghostly shit happens, and the dude has glowing eyes... which basically lines up with the socially accepted symptoms of possession.

Cool, cool, cool. Danny'll just act like he's possessing himself then. No need to make it weird. Or reveal that he's a halfa.

...

How the fuck was a ghost king, who for all intents and purposes, knows nothing about mortal life, supposed to act when possessing a random body????? does he call it his body?? vessel? homing beacon?

"-leas me this intance! I summoned you, you listen to me! ME! I summoned you. Therefore, you have to do as I say!" the leader's voice broke through Danny's thoughts, bringing him back to the present. Again. Man, he seriously needs to get his shit together. Maybe it was the blood loss, they had cut him pretty badly earlier...

Sighing, which hurt a lot actually... he should probably fix that. Mentally shrugging, Danny allowed his ectoplasm to heal his wounds, which in turn settled his core a lot more than he expected. Maybe he shouldn't suppress it so much in the future... OR he should, and just not allow himself to be used in other rituals. Yeah, that's probably it. Man, he's going to have to talk with Frostbite after this is all over.

"You know nothing of which you speak, mortal," Danny grumbled, turning slowly to examine the warehouse. The bats had been fast, or Danny was just really out of it, because not only were all the cultists knocked out but the other hostages were gone.

"I know enough!" the man screeched, hitting his free fist against Danny's arm in an attempt to get Danny to release him. The only thing that was going to do was leave a bruise. Robin growled almost silently in response, which was weird. Why would Robin be upset about this man hitting Danny? or was he more upset along the lines of believing the random "hostage" Danny is "possessing" being hurt?

Yeah, that was probably it. All right, time to act all Ghost Kingly or whatever. If he was about to do something stupid then Clockwork would intervene. Since he hasn't so far, Danny was taking this as the old man giving his permission to proceed.

"Stop bruising my new favorite vessel, or I'll show you why it's a bad idea to mess with the dead." Danny hissed, pulling the man up so they were eye to eye. (it wasn't that hard, considering Danny was short as fuck. Who knew dying would stunt your growth?)

The man leaned back, his eyes wide in fear. His face turned green, or was that just the light from Danny's eyes? how bright were they glowing???

Oh, right, old ghost king, you need to focus here Danny.

Rolling his eyes, Danny harshly (not as hard as he could have though, even if he wanted to punt the man into the sun) tossed the man out of the circle and toward Robin. Nightwing, who Danny had just noticed was also there, quickly rushed over and wrangled the man over to the pile of cultists and tied him up.

"Your vessel," Batman grunted, stepping up to stand next to Robin. (Danny wasn't sure when, but Robin had left the circle. Which meant they probably had someone with magic experience telling them what to do now.)

"Yes, mine," Danny huffed, slowly turning to study the broken windows. his head was killing him, like four migraines stuffed into one killing him...

Do they not know how to use a door? Like, how often do they break through windows? Like, sure, it probably saves them a few extra seconds during a fight, but seriously? Do they at least pay the owners back for the property damage?

"He's not yours," Robin hissed, unsheathing his katana. Batman rested his hand on his shoulder, likely to warn Robin from doing something stupid.

Lifting his brow, Danny glanced down at his body. Did Robin know him? Or was he really just that protective of the people in his city? Even though Danny wasn't technically a Gothamite? He remembered Damian telling him at one point that if he was ever in trouble, the bats would save him. Hmm, yeah, probably just very protective of the people in their city then.

Danny was the same way when he was Phantom; those tourists might not be native Amity Parkers, but they were his tourists. So back off, ghost number 700 of the week. Or something along those lines.

Yeah, that's probably it.

"He," oh wow, speaking about himself was so weird, "was used as a sacrifice to summon me, which makes him mine." Ignoring the fact that his body belonged to him beforehand because, again, this is his body, but you know, can't tell them that. Also, even if this was someone else's body, it'd technically be Danny's. Look, being the ghost king meant Danny owned a lot of weird things, one of those being literally anyone's dead body. (He refused to think about the fact that Pariah had technically owned his body.)

Glancing up, Danny watched as Batman tightened his grip on Robin's shoulder. "Release his body at once, you lowly demonic pit waste! His body-"

"OK!" Nightwing cut in, clapping his hands. "How about this," he glanced at Robin and then back at Danny, clearly nervous about Robin's outburst. Also, what the hell was pit waste? Like, obviously Robin was insulting him, but he could have at least used an insult Danny would understand.

Also, why was Robin insulting a supposedly all-powerful king of the dead? Wasn't he supposed to be one of the more rational vigilantes? Maybe he just got emotional when he thought he failed to protect someone? Which is completely understandable, Danny did not react well when he failed to keep someone safe.

"We apologize for any wrongdoing Robin's words have caused. You willingly go back to your realm, leave your vessel's body behind, and we" he gestured at himself and the other two, "don't get other magic users involved? how does that sound?"

"Is that a threat?" because seriously, that sounded exactly like a threat. Did they seriously not know how to talk to other dimensional beings? Shouldn't they, as Justice League members, know how to diplomatically converse with others? Especially ones that could kill them with a glance? (like, Danny obviously wouldn't do that, but come on!)

His core stuttered again, drawing his attention to the fact that Danny was running out of power to keep up whatever transformation he'd taken on. Which was weird because he's obviously not in his ghost form, so why was it so draining??? And there's plenty of ectoplasm in the air, so, like, this was just ridiculous.

"Whatever," Danny huffed, looking down to study the circle as Nightwing started waving his hands in denial. "I already healed the vessel, he'll technically live." He could feel the pull it had on his core, which meant he had no idea what would happen once it was broken. Would he feel the same things he felt earlier? or would it just be like letting go of someone's hand?

Man, he was too tired for this crap. He wanted to go home and sleep. maybe steel his boyfriend's hoodie and cuddle with Cujo.

You know what? Danny didn't care, he should just break the circle and act like nothing happened. Yep, that's the plan. Still, he should probably prepare for if something goes wrong, you know, like passing out.

Carefully, both because the world was still kind of spinning around him, and to keep the bats from reacting badly, Danny made his way to stand in front of the Vigilantes. They should have quick reflexes; if he passes out, they should be able to catch him, right?

Without warning, Danny dragged his shoe over the line and broke the circle. Immediately his core hissed and all of his energy disappeared. Crumpling forward, Danny barely processed the sight of Robin's panicked lunge to catch him before everything turned dark and his body felt on fire.

Next?

[thetorturedlovergirl]

So you're telling me that if Elphaba hadn't been able to turn Fiyero into a scarecrow, Dorothy would have found a beaten and nearly dead man tied to a post.

[motorsportbarbie13]

Zip Me Up?

In which you're getting ready for a night out but you need your boyfriend's help. Or do you?

Warnings: none unless you hate tooth achingly sweet fluff Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

When you heard the front door snick close, your eyes fall straight to your phone. 6:45. Shit. You were going to be late and you weren’t even dressed yet. In your defense, you had spent a few extra hours at the salon that day with Carmen who kept talking you into more and more treatments. ‘It’s a reward for getting through your first F1 season as a WAG!’ she had joked while Lily nodded along in agreement on your other side, which lead to you adding a facial on to the end of your massage Lando had booked for you today. 

You were regretting it now because that door closing signaled that your boyfriend was home and you were still sat in front of vanity mirror in the skimpy black lingerie that was supposed to be a surprise for Lando after the FIA awards tonight. You knew he was still salty about losing the championship to Max by 20 points and the bits of lace and silk were supposed to help get his mind off things. 

While the season had ended well, with Lando picking up a total of seven wins and McLaren securing their first constructors championship on ages, the sting of losing out to Max in the end was just a bit too much for your boyfriend to handle. You had known him for years, your brother racing the same circuits as Lando as a child, so you knew how competitive he was and how badly it hurt him to come up just short. While your brother had left the sport after he turned 16, he had joined the McLaren racing team as first an engineer before being promoted to strategist. 

You had run into Lando at the McLaren Technical Center one afternoon two years back while visiting your brother, a spark that had been present when you both were younger igniting again with one single look. The rest, as they say, was history. It had been a whirlwind really, the timing of it all simply perfect. 

“Babe, you almost ready? The car is going to be here in fifteen.” Lando calls from what sounds like the kitchen. He had just popped out to get bottle of whiskey to put in his flask, insisting that being half way drunk was the only way he was going to survive the awards dinner. 

In the kitchen, Lando sets the bottle of whiskey down before opening the silver flask you had gotten him for his birthday in November. Engraved on the side was his monogram and a tiny little F1 car under it. 

“Almost ready! Be out in five!” You shout back and Lando can’t help but chuckle. Five minutes in your time was actually closer to 15 so he knew he had time for a drink. 

Lando busies himself in the kitchen while he waits, knowing he’s going to tease you about taking so long to get ready while not meaning a word of his banter. You scurry about the bedroom, for once glad he hasn’t come looking for you so you can get ready quickly without being distracted. It was Lando’s constant state: Distraction. His curls distracted you. His smile distracted you. The way he said your name distracted you. Everything about your boyfriend caused you to be utterly distracted and while you wouldn’t have it any other way, sometimes a girl just needs 10 minutes alone to focus and get her makeup on. 

Minutes pass and the house is quiet, save for the clink of some ice in a glass as Lando enjoys a quick drink before you leave for the night. 

“Lan?” You call and God does that do something to him. The nickname you have for him is his favorite word. Not because he likes being called Lan, although he doesn’t mind. No, he loved it because of the way his name fell off your lips like sweet slow drips of honey, sugary coated and thick. 

He makes his way down the hall, knowing exactly where to find you: your dressing room. It had been your only demand when you moved in with him 3 months ago. If he got a gaming room, you deserved a dressing room. And Lando, not being one to ever say no to you, had immediately had his workout room converted to the dressing room of your dreams. 

He stops once he reaches the doorway, pausing to lean against the frame to take you in. Your hair was done in loose curls, the shiny locks tumbling down over your shoulders made him forget his last name. Your black dress, shimmering under the dim lights you only used after your makeup was finished, was a long column of silk that made Lando’s throat go dry. 

When you see him standing there, practically eating you alive with the feral look on his face, a slow grin spreads across your face. “Hi baby.” You coo before gathering your hair up in one hand while spinning around. “Can you zip my dress up for me?”

Truth be told, you could have probably done it yourself but you also wanted to give Lando a sneak at what was under your dress right when he couldn’t do a damn thing about it. Teasing him with little glimpses of skin was one of your favorite past times. Lando knew that you could have done it yourself too, but he appreciated being needed and would never pass up the opportunity to run his fingers up your bare skin.

“Of course.” He says, crossing the room in a few strides to come stand behind you. Your perfume, a sweet and spicy dream of a fragrance, settled across his skin where it would linger all night, a constant reminder that you were his now. When you had waltzed into the MTC visiting your brother two years ago, he hadn’t recognized you at first. The moment he heard your voice though? He had known he was a goner. 

His fingers deftly maneuver the zipper up towards the top of the gown, the pads of his fingers leaving a smattering of goosebumps in their wake. When his job is done and your dress is secure, Lando dips his head to drop an open mouthed kiss in the crook of your neck, a place you can often find him kissing. When he starts to drag his tongue from his favorite spot up the column of your neck, you can’t help the sigh that falls from your lips on a whisper. Here it was, the distraction. 

“You look exquisite tonight.” He murmurs when his mouth reaches your ear, breath dusting along the shell of your ear. 

“Thank you.” Your voice is embarrassingly breathy but Lando’s fingers digging into your hips says he’s not embarrassed one bit. He didn’t say a word about the lace that was for him, but you know he saw it. “Sorry I’m running behind. Carmen, Lily, and I took longer at the salon today than I anticipated.” 

Lando spins you around, shaking his head when your gaze meets his. “It’s fine, we’re not really all that late. I’m glad you’re getting along with the other girls.” 

You nodded, the corner of your mouth ticking up at the thought of your friends, also girlfriends of F1 drivers, who had really taken you under your wing this season. Being in the public eye like the WAGs tended to be was not for the faint of heart and there had been several times this season where only the girls were able to understand your struggle to adjust to life with Lando. 

The two of you stand there for a moment, taking in the sight of each other. You were able to travel to most of the races so you didn’t often go too long without seeing Lando, but there was something settling about it now being winter break, all work suspended for the time being while everyone decompressed after a hard season. You had made it through, relationship stronger than ever, and the silent conversation that happens while you two reflect on how everything has changed so quickly has your heart fluttering in your chest. 

Lando’s the first to break the spell, forced to drop his attention to his phone that was buzzing quietly. “That’s the car.” He says, sounding almost sad that the two of you will have to leave the comfort of your private cocoon tonight and put on your public faces for the evening. 

Moments later, Lando is helping you into your jacket before twining his fingers with your own. More kisses are dropped on your cheeks and neck as you both scuttle towards the door, the hired car likely double parked in front of your building. You knew Lando would have rather stayed home tonight, not wanting to have to share you or your attention with anyone but you also knew tonight would serve as a good closing chapter on your first year together and for that, you were forever grateful. 

[magicandmundane]

Something something Clone Force 99 breaking binders in every season finale

[raining-its-pouring]

A little tired of people saying Moon can’t stand up for herself. Like yeah I think one of the flaws she has is she is too lenient and forgiving, but also in her situation it’s VERY HARD not to be. And it’s very situational, usually manifesting with Five Pebbles.

She stops talking to you if you annoy her enough, and only starts again if you win her back over. You have to put in the work. She isn’t “rolling over” and letting things happen to her, despite the fact that she is in absolutely no position to bargain. As stated by her, her kindness and her words are the ONLY thing she has. So her taking those away from you, the player, is absolutely her standing up for herself.

Everyone brings up how she handles Five Pebbles (esp the comms thing) and it is incredible to me just how many people lay this entirely at her feet when the game states over and over again that even despite Moon’s intentional feather-light influence over him, he still resents her for being his superior. He seeks out a mentor who is her opposite.

He wants to be something more than what he is, wants to be detached from her, and she can’t do anything about that but do the best she can to exert as little influence over him as possible.

She is stuck between a rock and a hard place here, and was betting on her kindness to have fostered enough mutual respect that she wouldn’t have to resort to forced communications. She was wrong. He was driven by fierce desperation, something that she wasn’t privy to. And she paid for it.

Yes, this is a flaw of hers. But it’s not a universal one. (the rest of the iterators look to her for help- she’s the group senior for gods sake- and people act like she can’t take a stand) I genuinely doubt Moon would’ve waited so long to used forced comms if it were happening to anyone else. If it were being committed by anyone else. And that just makes the tragedy even sweeter.

[rendevok]

“Take my hand” pages 12-15

1 - 2 - day 3 - 💙free day❤️ - 4

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

jin guangshan and lan qiren yaoi perhaps? since their shapes create a perfect balance?

Two old men perform worlds first successful 96.

[dykedvonte]

You ever just see a Mouthwashing take that makes you want to bang your head into a wall? I literally just saw someone claim Curly couldn't have been emotionally abused by Jimmy before the crash because he was in a higher position of power than Jimmy.

-Shrimp Anon

The mouthwashing fandom has shown me that people genuinely do believe that certain types of abuse are not as detrimental as other types especially when they deem those immune/resistant, ergo, believing one is objectively worse no matter how it affects the person nor the intersections of power, history and dynamics at play.

Get ready cause this is a yap session:

Cause like it's heavily implied that Curly and Jimmy's friendship was toxic and abusive, pointedly in the direction of how Jimmy uses Curly's belief/comfort in him. Curly wasn't forced to enable Jimmy but he was emotional and mentally on edge around him in almost every scene in some way. Mental and emotional abuse are not contingent on what positions you have at work. Yeah, he's Jimmy's boss but he was Jimmy's friend first and it's like getting into Psych discussion to talk about how social power tends to overshadow any perceived organizational power in the human mind. People are concerned about their jobs ofc but they tend to hang onto and put more value/investment into their personal relationships, hence why there tends to be laws and restrictions around mixing the two.

I always see the sentiments that "Curly is a grown ass man", "Curly is bigger than Jimmy", "Curly is Jimmy's boss", "He just needed a backbone" as criticisms of Curly and while I do agree that on the surface level all of these to be true and viable ways Curly could've taken more control of the situation, I often look at the parallels of Anya and Curly as victims of Jimmy pre/post crash.

The way Jimmy talks to Anya post crash is how he talked to Curly in the pre-crash segments. It's hard to pin-point mainly because we know he hates and wants nothing to do with Anya compared to his contrary but similarly handled obsessions with Curly. It's a weird sort of "honey-moon" effect of abuse Jimmy does in terms of emotional and mental victimization. He is always horrid to Anya, always talking down or questioning her abilities and thoughts in a situation, this of course includes the harassment and assault. However, he has a moment of attempted gentleness/conditioning when he question her about the mouthwash when she's contemplating drinking it at the table. The key difference is he has no personal investment in Jimmy outside wanting nothing to do with him, meaning there is no sort of romanticized version of him that he can condition her off of. He knows this, hence, why he always reverts to trying to make her to scared to oppose him.

This sort of give and take of "kindness" doesn't work on her because she knows he is just doing it to take more from her than whatever he could possibly give but it reflects even the "softer" scenes between him and Curly where he always rewords or rephrases Curly's sentiments and concerns to sound more shallow. He is feigning a deeper understanding by reworking Curly's emotions into something bad and needing to be hidden. Everything is laced with envy and resentment, an outburst just around the corner, I mean he even slams the table in the birthday party scene, a tactic in emotional manipulation to set the victim on edge and cloud their ability to respond. Even if Curly knows Jimmy won't get physical in that moment, the physical actions is intended to make him back down in the confrontation in case it does. This is something that is just not person specific. It ingrains itself into how you interact with the world and life and it shows in major and minor ways with Curly.

Post-crash, the abusive nature is more in tandem to the physical victimization Anya went through and the stripping of voice and autonomy we see take place. Like the parasite in HFIM, Jimmy speaks for Curly most of the time and puts words in his mouth, similarly to how he takes Anya's plans as his own. He very commonly, with the both of them mind you, supplements the worst aspects of himself into them; pettiness, selfishness, lack of understanding... And tries to cover himself with their best qualities; kindness, planning, initiative, etc...

These parallel are just to say that positional power has little to do with if a person can be abused and how it can even be flipped to further the abuse. There is no doubt that Curly could've picked up on Jimmy's envy of his position hence another reason he never confronted him as a Captain but as a friend as doing so would immediately put Jimmy in a space to be confrontational/combative.

I think the disdain some people have when they talk about the heavily implied if not implicitly stated emotional/mental abuse Curly experienced being Jimmy's friend is when treating it as an excuse to why he didn't do more. I can understand that completely because it is not an excuse to why he didn't do more but is a very real reason people in his position in these scenarios can experience whether in the context of a work or social environment. However, I also think the way people talk about it really does demonstrate a bigger problem when talking about abuse when somehow who is/was abused is either part of the issue or enabled it.

Harkening back to the sentiments about Curly's inaction regarding Jimmy, I think the exact phrases I used/have seen show how there is an inherent belief that it is easier to overpower the effects of emotional/mental abuse that go in tandem with the perception of Curly as someone who should be able to. There is not an age you suddenly stop being susceptible to abuse nor a set point or low where you realize how it has affected you. You don't suddenly know to stand up or put a face on to face your abuser nor admit that you inadvertently enabled them to subjugate someone else to the same treatment. Maybe it's my psych brain but their is this growing belief that direct action is somehow easy or always the best method with the game shows you instances where it is not always the case. In real life that rings true too. He should have done more, but it's not impossible to see why he struggled to find a way or didn't even if it makes us mad.

It's not easy to suddenly gain a "back-bone". You don't immediately want to resort to aggression, especially if it mirrors the type you were a victim to. You don't want to believe you allowed yourself to be treated this bad, let it get that bad or allowed something bad to happen to someone else. It is easy to be in denial, to retreat to your thoughts or make excuses to avoid the painful truth. It's frustrating but in a way we know is relatable. It why we both hate and love Curly for it. We know we'd be better, we think we'd be better, we like to think we wouldn't falter in the same ways but it's always easier to say that from the outside looking in. It's easy to see what he was doing wrong because we are seeing it, not him, but the game really does make you picture what you would do if this was your raw reality and it's why this debate about Curly seems so never ending/contradictory. We can all say what we'd do but bottom line is that's much different when you're in the moment with all the emotions and human feelings attached.

I personally think Mouthwashing tackles the themes of rape culture, enabling, toxic masculinity, types of abuse and patriarchy in ways that are meant to deconstruct the typical straightforward views we mostly have of these concepts and how little subtilities of them are just as, if not more, detrimental than the overt/obvious parts. The game deals with the idea of little details and bigger picture in a way to show that sometimes the bigger picture is not the issue but the little details that make it up. It's why I have a personal dislike of depictions of Jimmy as the typical horrible person who would of course do something like this because the game is about noticing the little warning signs, the foreshadowing and foresight.

It's why I dislike the typical discussion of "bro code" and "boys will be boys" for the game because the game makes a point to avoid the standard depictions of such. It is about the type of men who still enable despite not condoning, agreeing or even perpetuating harmful beliefs because they can't see the little details or the ways it seeps into their everyday. The severity is not obvious to them as it was not obvious to Curly, Swansea or even Daisuke the way it was to a woman like Anya. There are little details about Jimmy that should ring alarms but if you are too naive like Daisuke, too distant like Swansea or too conditioned like Curly, they are just off markers.

There is 100% more constructive/concise ways to say "Curly was a victim of Jimmy's abuse on an emotional and mental aspect that clouded his judgements and perceptions in the scenario" while also critiquing on the side of "Curly still had a responsibility to protect Anya as a crew mate and Captain that he failed to do due to biases and stigma's he failed to surpass" without the weird condemnation people give him about should've knowing better than to let himself be manipulated by a person he considered a close, if not family/best-friend and had his own reasons to trust initially. Also stop being weird about victims of abuse in general with this fandom, like sorry not everyone has a like social epiphany the moment someone's nasty to them. People are treating it like you immediately know when you are in a toxic relationship immediately or comprehend when a person is actively dangerous and either it's your fault for not knowing how to leave/cut them off or you deserve it. Like the hypocrisy of people believing how certain fans treat the story reflect their irl views but not their own is crazy.

End statement is: I honestly don't even know man, I've been writing this too long and just like no man on that ship was perfect or really helped Anya when it mattered and I feel like pitting them against each other in discussion on who did the least or most or how it was justified sucks cause in the end Anya always did the most and best thing for herself.