#sorry but i just think it's a fucking miracle we've got him

[thislittlekumquat]

Saw the trailer for the hulu special about conversations with the pope... and the spouse showed me also a bit where a nonbinary person asks him about queer people and he said he can't kick anyone out of the church and then went on to literally call bigots who use christianity to spread their personal agendas "interlopers" and Idk if I'm PMSing or what but I almost cried.

[ladydeath-vanserra]

SJM + Eugenics + Ableism in her Writing

thinking about how insidious eugenics can come up in writing- specifically SJMs writing. Personally I take a lot with a grain of salt bec I don't think a lot of ppl realize how fucking deeply entrenched and rooted it is in everything and more often than not its not intentional

and to an extent I don't think it was intentional by SJM. she does have a degree of plausible deniability in her story telling

however that being said:

the Cauldron "pairing mates" has allusions to being a breeding program of some kind of supernatural predestined idiocy. Sam + Melissa on Tiktok have some pretty great videos on it

However, while they think that SJM is providing commentary on the matter, I do have a different view, not that I really disagree with what they're saying

SJM has a track record of using disabilities as an aesthetic for her characters. It's often a point of suffering and/or there ends up being a magical fix (yay fantasy eugenics providing miracle cures!!! /sarcasm)

Chaol, severely injured with a spinal cord injury that left him paralyzed goes to the super special healing place to have the world's bestest healers where the magical healing trope + black girl magic collide. He spends the whole book, a duration of only six months, regaining the ability to walk, with a cane most days. Chaol spends a large part of the book feeling sorry for himself and immasculting himself. Yerene, a professional trained healer who helps him with PT snaps at him in frustration to "just get up" when he's being difficult with her Note: some of these detailed may be incorrectly remembered + I never finished the book bec I can't stand him

Lucien: he gets his eye ripped out and is literally blinded but now he has a magical eye that is even better and can sense magic and spells and all that good shit

Rhys: chronic pain; never addressed

Azriel: scarred hands and wings, but so far we've seen no real struggle or accommodation of any kind or even a real discussion on how he had to learn how to fly at an older age due to his captivity and scarred wings

Cassian: his wings were beyond shredded but between books they got fixed up right as rain. it would have been fantastic rep for this decorated veteran and leader to be disabled, esp for a culture of warriors where flying is so crucial + where thr women are also forceably mutilated and can't fly either

speaking of the illyrian women

the Illyrian Women: not being able to fly and use their limbs is a disability. We have seen zero repercussions of Emeries father (and brother(?)) for disabling and mutilating his daughter

the mental health crisis of NESTA for ONE. in both the Fandom and in the series the grating toxic positivity and lack of patience and understanding and support and willingness to meet her halfway enraged me holy shit. The tone policing, the lack of autonomy, the unaddressed childhood trauma that has made Nesta the core of who she was. it was vile and disgusting

Aelin: quite frankly should have difficulty moving as fluidly as she does. she was whipped to ribbons and beaten bloody. Her back should be full of chronic pain and difficulty

Elide: as far as I'm aware Elide isn't too bad and she's incredibly intelligent and resourceful but it's been a hot minute since I've read the series. I do remember when they talked about it at the end about possibilities to heal her ankle (they couldn't)

I haven't read CC yet but I heard that LIMBS CAN GROW BACK???? sure let's just completely erase and magically fix imputations I guess?

I find it a lit harder to forgive "accidental eugenics" when her disabled characters disabilities are either made into Aesthetics, not properly addressed, or just healed all together

and when you pair magical eugenics + aesthetics:

You get Rhysand, the most powerful high lord of ever that you just have to keep being told is the most powerful high lord ever due to his parents being mates that his father whisked away from moments before she became mutilated like all the other Illyrian Women at 18 years old to a 900 year old man

you get his entire IC who is made of The Night Courts super special powerful clique who now happen to be the most powerful illyrian EVERRRR (Cassian + Azriel), Amren who was some trapped angel of death or something and Mor who is just so super powerful a mountain quaked or something when she was born

the entire IC is a concentrated powerhouse who also uses a specific mindset of "might is right"-

-and have forced others hands across the entire series or just outright lied and stole. also trespassing and routinely breaking laws but hey

Rowan, Aelin, Aedion, Dorian, Manon are all ToG Powerhouses. Rowan is described as the "most powerful full blooded fae male alive". there's an implication that human blood "weakens" fae traits and magical abilities [this is rather common in a lot of fantasy books]

every single character in this series is seen as some sort of extraordinary person with some sort of extraordinary power or ability aside from maybe a few. Hell Chaol, the only fully human character with no powers is the "Captian of the Guard" which he got bec he's a nepo baby from being Dorians friend. He gets disabled and they immediately go to get him fixed

tagging: @feynessupremacy @bookishfeylin @andramoreaux

I thought yall would appreciate

[starseneyes]

Chenford - Lucy Chen / Tim Bradford - The Rookie - Season 5 - Ep 21

"Going Under" AKA "Going Down in the Laundry Room"

We made it home just in time for the episode, but I was too worn from the events of the day to finish last night. So, here it is, your Meta.

SPOILER ALERT: Look, I don't spoil those who want to remain unspoiled, which is why there's a cute "Read More" button. But as soon as you click that, you're on your own. You will be spoiled. Sorry, not sorry.

All squared away? It's time to dive in!

Lucy and Tim Brief the Team

There's something very powerful about seeing Lucy and Tim standing up there to tell everyone about the Op.

It throws me back to Lucy's first Under Cover assignment when an angry Tim perched outside the door, arms crossed, while Lucy sat as a member of the briefing.

Now, Sergeant Second Class Bradford and... what the hell!?

Where's Lucy's promotion, dagnabbit?!

Look, I'm really not trying to complain after the feast we got in this episode. But, it really does strike hard when you're thinking about earlier seasons and how far Tim has come professionally.

I really hope the "Lucy wants to make Detective" story line continues this season or beginning of next.

"Which is where Officer Chen comes in. She'll be going undercover..."

It's good that Tim's the one who's introducing this, and we're continuing our thread of, "Tim is trying to be okay with this."

Also, again, a long way from Tim being pissed about Lucy going UC. The growth has been massive. I think it's important to acknowledge that even as we spend this episode highlighting how much further these two have to go.

The need for continued growth does not cancel out the growth already achieved. Work is work, and when you put it in, it matters.

"Until further notice, if you see Officer Chen out in the world, don't acknowledge her."

And, I'm thrown back to Lucy's Op at the end of Season 3, when Tim and Jackson came across her with the traffic stop. I remember Jackson asking Tim how to play it, and Tim coaching him through.

"I called Hard Luck." "Really? He's such an unreliable CI."

Gosh, I love how these two talk to one another. Again, we've come so fucking far.

And I know I'm waxing nostalgic, a bit, but I think that's natural for an episode of this magnitude. Lucy hasn't done more than a short stint undercover op in many seasons.

And this is the first time we get to see these two handle it as a couple.

Every other time they've done this, Tim was a TO or a coworker. Now, he's Lucy's Shower Sex Sweetie and Quality Quickie with a dash of Down-And-Dirty-All-Night-Long-Hottie.

It's bound to change the dynamic. But one thing that I love about this scene is how equal they are.

Sure, Lucy doesn't have the rank, but she's no longer "sir"ing Tim (unless he asks for it in the bedroom... or shower... or wherever role playing activities might transpire).

"He knows it's important to me." "Aw... undercover love." *giggle*

Y'all, I'm giddy. Like, legit was grinning like a fool. And after the day I've had, that's no small miracle.

Also, it feels like Eric Winter almost broke, and like Melissa O'Neil did. I have no intel on this, and I might be completely off-base, but there was something about his little quirk of the lip and double-take that would definitely have set me off if I was working opposite him in that scene.

"Jamie Hall." "You all set up Jamie?" "Yeah, all good."

So. Fucking. Cute.

I just love that Tim's the one outside keeping an eye on her (even if my subconscious is trying to connect the dots between IA paperwork, possible liabilities of Tim overreacting or losing his cool, and what happens if he uses the wrong name by accident, etc).

He is the protector. And being involved in the Op is easier for him to handle than not being involved.

Think about it... we know that Isabel would go away for months at a time and Tim felt like he couldn't breathe the whole time. He didn't know about the people she met. He didn't know anything.

He told Isabel that Lucy was different, and I think we all can see that Chenford can be different. But without communication, they're doomed.

Golly, that sounds dramatic. Like that old shipping commercial where everyone is doomed. Yeah, like twelve of you reading understand that reference, and I'm leaving it anyway.

But, I truly believe communication is the foundation to a strong relationship. And I'm not just saying that because I happen to hold two degrees in communications.

Tim and Lucy have the benefit of an established relationship based on trust and respect. But learning to effectively communicate your needs, wants, fears, aversions, and desires as a couple is completely different.

"Are you good? .... "Are you good?" "Do you mean do I miss you already? Nah, I'm fine." "You are such a jerk."

This is so me and Matt coded. And, yes, I'm Lucy in this scenario. Can't tell you how many times I've affectionately called Matthew a jerk and he's shared that same satisfactory smirk on Tim's face afterwards.

"Hey, will you keep an eye on Tamara for me? You know, just check in on her every once in a while." "Of course. Yeah, don't worry about her. I'll keep an eye on her. You just focus on the job."

Tim is really trying to be amazingly supportive for her. And I love this little reminder that Tim does have his own place.

Yes, for production purposes we're spending a lot of time at Lucy's (that I head-canon is because she lives closer to the station).

Also, Tim doesn't hesitate to watch out for Tamara. There was a time he only referred to Tamara as "Lucy's Puppy", but now they're family.

"How long do you think this will take?"

Excuse me, we're getting a montage!?! Like, a montage with voice over provided by our intrepid duo? Be still my beating heart!

Y'all don't understand. I was a Voice Over artist for two decades. So, when I see actors who can also do voice over well, I get super hyped.

Melissa O'Neil and Eric Winter decided to make me gawk at their talent even more tonight. Gee wiz! Like, it's possible they recorded their audio together, but more likely they were each in comfy clothes in the booth solo on completely different days.

And the chemistry. still. freakin. works. That's talent, my friends.

Look, some people crush VO and some people don't. Just watch (or don't watch... maybe with shrooms nearby) the Star Wars Holiday Special animated section to see what I mean.

I'm not gonna name names, but it was really easy to call which Star Wars actor was going to go into voice work later and which one really shouldn't have been asked to do that long VO for Blade Runner.

"Oh, do not finish this season of Top Chef without me." "I can't make any promises."

Y'all, this is so me and Matt coded! Now, Top Chef is my show and not Matthew's. I even keep it on in the background when I'm working or writing a screenplay.

Yes, I know most people don't work that way. I'm weird. I've come to terms with it, and I like me—weird and all.

But we totally have our shows where we say, "You better not watch this without me!" And, usually, I'm the one to screw it up. Mostly by accident!

Matthew always reminds me of Mean Girls. He wanted to see it in theaters. I said to hold off. Then we were in the video store (yes, we're old) and he offered to rent it, but I said to hold off. The third time was a year later when he remembered we hadn't seen it.

Except I accidentally caught it on TV totally forgetting we said we'd watch it together. Eep!

Also, after Lucy complaining about her ex watching too many cooking shows after his wrists were slit, I find it interesting she actively watched them with Tim.

Just goes to show cooking shows were never the problem. *cough* dead weight puffed chicken *cough*

"You ever wish you has a normal job?" "One where people don't shoot at you? Not once." "Yeah, me, either."

I love how easy their conversation is. These are the little things that add up to big things when you're building a relationship. And some mastermind in the Writer's Room thought, "What if we advance their relationship while advancing the episode's story via VO?"

As much flack as VO sometimes takes (and I'm actually a VO fan), I adore this choice.

We don't need to meet all the people in the office and establish relationships with them. It doesn't service the story or our core characters. So, we're letting Tim and Lucy—two characters we adore—carry us through via the VO. It's bloody beautiful.

Also, I love the pacing of this episode. Love it. There's an effortlessness to the timing of the edits and the passage of time via wardrobe change is so beautifully done.

I know we have the Super giving us time stamps via dates, but those are almost superfluous because we can visualize the journey via other cues. It's stuff like this that makes me bloody giddy.

"Making any friends?"

This. Is. So. Cute. Tim is actually keeping Lucy sane, here, I'm convinced! Remember her last UC assignment where she had to check in via phone? She was bored out of her mind.

"Is the monotony getting to you?" "I don't mind it... I just don't want it to all be for nothing."

This is so interesting to me. The word choice, I mean. This is how I felt about the infertility drugs... it couldn't all be for nothing.

I'm not going to get into the whole thing, here. But, I dealt with multiple years of infertility for my kids. For a while, I had to be on this medication—letrazole. Most people have minor reactions on it. I had almost all the weird/severe reactions.

But it got my follicles to optimum size for ovulation. It wasn't all for nothing.

There are things we put ourselves through willingly, sometimes, that to an outsider might seem strange. But we have a reason for what we're doing—and a hope that it's the right thing to do.

"Why don't we go for a walk?"

It's not Chenford, but I gotta call out my on-screen bestie for using her brains on this one to prevent Frank from taking her to a second location. Well done.

Tim Pretending to Be On the Phone

Fierce protector is there. Now, I'm turning off my subconscious brain on this one, and I'll explain why at the end. But, I did think it was a nice touch to have Tim on the phone, here.

There's something about this episode that felt like a dash of Alias was sprinkled onto the souffle. It's already an abundant hour that could feel bloated, but instead is rich and decadent. But that added spice is palpable in the shooting and editing, especially.

That over-the-shoulder shot of the landscape when Tim's watching them feels hand-held, giving us that sense of something being off-kilter and unstable.

When Tim hangs up, it's a shot of his torso, out-of-focus, with the real action behind him. There are layers to how this is shot, and it's so reminiscent of a spy movie in the best ways.

The whole episode is already elevated by Michael Rooker. But the script and pacing and directing and editing all feel like they've risen to the occasion, too.

"I was bored to early onset rigor mortis."

But this is a part of UC life. It's the "hurry up and wait" that is strangely a huge part of life in the film/television industry, as well. Like, a huge part.

It could be waiting for the sun to set so you have the perfect lighting, waiting for an actor on set, waiting for notes, or even a Writer's Strike if it comes to that.

UC often means embedding for months at a time before getting what you're going after. It's something for which Tim and Lucy must prepare. And I feel like this episode is the perfect vehicle to get us there.

"Like a date?" ... "odds are he's hoping for a little something-something."

Tim is having a hard time, and Grey knows it. I love how he casts a glance Tim's way on this line, sensing his unease.

Let's be real—Grey saw Chenford coming before they did. And he's the one really tuned into Tim, here.

Tim can't help walking her to the door, holding it open for her, even if he knows he can't touch her. He's concerned.

"You okay?" "Five by five." "You gotta treat this like any other op and treat Lucy like any other UC." "I know."

I'll be honest, when I first watched this scene, this is what I wrote: UGH. I don't like what's being set up. Please don't let Tim fuck this up. Please don't let Tim fuck this up.

I have never been so happy to be wrong about my read on a scene. I seriously worried we were setting it up for Tim to be the liability in all this, and I'm grateful that's not the direction it went.

This show has a history of showing couples working through bad times, tough situations, close calls. The core couples suffer as much as any Austen heroine—and they come out alright in the end. I'm grateful to see that tradition continue with Chenford.

"Okay."

First off, I have to admit that I giggled when Lucy's head popped up. I know it's a completely inappropriate response, but all I could picture was one of those Whack-A-Mole's at the Chuck-E-Cheese growing up. She was like a little prairie dog, and I haven't been able to watch the scene since.

Anyway, back to what I wrote when this first aired: Tim sees Lucy and he can breathe, again. She knew. She knew he'd be looking for her.

And Tim knew he couldn't breach. If he went in, that'd give away everything, and someone needed to go after that car.

He's doing everything right. But it hurts like hell.

"Gun was empty. I got lucky. Otherwise..."

And you can see it hurts. Look, Tim has faced a lot worse in his time in the military and working Patrol. But everything is raw right now.

The woman he loves it in danger. She was nearly killed by that same weapon. Both of them had close calls with the same gun and lived to tell the tale.

"Hey, you okay?" "Yeah. I am now.... meet me at the laundry room in your building." "Yes. See you in 30."

I love the touch that Lucy's hand is on the phone before Frank even pulls away. She needs to touch base with Tim. She needs to hear his voice.

And I love the emphasis Melissa O'Neil places on "Yes". It's a heart cry for its soulmate. There is no question that they need to see one another.

Tim has always had this need to protect Lucy, even before romance was on the table. And Lucy has always had a need to protect Tim, too, in her own way.

Lucy watching out for Tim with Isabel. Tim doing whatever it took to save Lucy from a serial killer. Over and over, these two have a need to know the other is okay.

I remember not so long ago Tim was asking Nolan, Nyla, Angela... asking if Lucy was okay. He needed to know. Then, he finally had the direct line as a friend. He could text her to get the details.

Now, they need to see each other. It's that same need, but it's grown along with their relationship.

*hug* "That was really scary." "Yeah, I almost had a heart attack."

Lucy launches herself up into his arms and he nestles into her shoulder. Tim's right hand is splayed across her back, as though he wants to hold as much of her at one time as he can.

It's another one of those "Eric Winter act all the way through his fingers" moments. Tim's whole body is reacting to holding her, safe in his arms, down to those fingertips.

These poor babies. This is the first time they've had to do this deep since Lucy's S3 arc. And they've never done it in love, before. Not with each other.

Tim knows what he lost with Isabel. But this love is different, deeper, developed from the gradual building of trust. Layers upon layers of caring. Lucy is the love of his life—and he's run raw from witnessing the shootout, and skirting death moments apart.

"If you need to tap out-" "No."

Tim is trying to give her an out, and there's a mix here of professional and personal. She's shaken. So is he. But this is the job.

And he knows that. He does. But we've already established he can't be objective where she is concerned.

"Has he tried anything?"

This is a scenario that's run through my mind a million times—what would Tim do if someone violated Lucy... and what would he do to that person?

The way Eric Winter plays this moment is so heartbreaking, too. There's a vulnerability in Tim's eyes that is completely personal, void of professional. He's a man worried about the love of his life.

He knows she can handle herself. It's not a cognitive issue. It's that part of him that cries out Fierce Protector whenever she is in danger.

Lucy gets that, and she grabs onto his jacket with one hand, almost pulling him closer to her.

"Alright, now is not the time to talk about this-"

It's easier for him to change the subject on her than to acknowledge how much they both need to have this conversation at some point. They've been talking around it and avoiding it.

It has to be addressed at some point. There is no way forward without it.

"If you're good, I'm good." "I'm good." "Good."

I'm having a bit of a Court Jester moment, here, and it's cracking me up. "Get it?" "Got it." "Good."

But also, "Good" is kind of their word. Tim used it post-DOD with her in the workout room, and again when he was happy she didn't change her mind about dating him.

I don't know who made the choice—whether it was a writing thing, first, or an actor choice in the moment, but it somehow makes it more personal and lived-in. And I love that.

"Lock the door first."

Did they just.... have sex in there? Oh my GOSH they pulled a Java!

But what I really love about this is how it feels like a callback to 5x01 and the airplane bathroom. Not only is it a small space where they are covertly meeting to discuss the mission, but it's also a parallel to Lucy needing grounding and Tim being the one to do it.

In 5x01, Lucy was shaken by the Rosalind news. She made an excuse to kiss Tim, to wrap herself in a moment that was a release. Remember Isabel talking about how great it was to unwind in that hotel room and not be on guard for a bit?

Lucy needs this. She needs to be with Tim and wrap herself in the life they are building. Even if it's only a little while, it's going to sustain her while she's pretending while thinking on three levels to not get killed.

He grounds her when she's flailing. And she envelopes him when he's crumbling. Tim and Lucy have built a relationship of mutual respect, love, and protection. And, damn, is it great to get to see it on-screen.

"Miss you." "Getting coffee. 1 Minute." "911."

Shit. Of course this is the one moment when something goes down.

But I love the fact that Lucy was having Laundry Room Sex less than 12 hours earlier and she's already texting her boyfriend because she misses him. No wonder he practically lives at her place, already.

Also, now we know she finally has him listed as "Tim" in her phone. Now, he was "Tim" at the end of S4E1, but I think that was an oversight. So, officially we've graduated to first names.

"Hey. Why are you here?"

Oh, GPS tracking, how I hate thee in real life and love thee on TV.

"You got ten seconds to convince me you're not a cop."

Annnnd, there it is. This guy's not a moron. This isn't his first rodeo. And now he has a gun trained on our girl.

"I'm not a cop I... " "Then how the hell did you know they were coming." "A police scanner app. I can show you."

Well. Done. There are folks in my area who have scanner apps and are constantly posting things online.

I sometimes forget about it because when I worked in a newsroom, we had a guy whose whole job was to listen to the scanner. Still boggles my mind anyone can do it these days!

And Lucy. Gets. Him. Monologuing. And it's beautiful. Lessor actors would have bungled it, but Michael Rooker is a bloody master of the craft, and Melissa O'Neil holds her own opposite him, which adds such richness.

Before we move on, I have to pause and just fawn over Michael Rooker a bit. He's just such a gem of an actor, and that whole interaction there between Lucy and Frank is elevated by his presence.

He pours so much life into a character we've barely known five minutes.

I met him once upon a time. My mother was the Key Makeup Artist on a movie called Deceiver. While I was visiting Mom on-set, I had the opportunity to run lines with him.

He treated me like a working actor, which was crazy to a kid like me.

I remember him running me through this one line over and over. It was a three-word line (which of course I can't remember), but he was trying to teach me how inflection and intention can completely change the meaning of a line.

I carried that with me, and applied it to my acting, writing, and VO work the rest of my life.

My mom said he told her that I acted like a pro. And that's just so bloody special to me. I never had the body or the face for the big time, ya know? But, an actor I admire thought I had the chops. And that's super cool.

"Where are you?" "I'm outside the cover apartment. Frank just dropped me off."

One thing that is a minor thing, but really cracks me up about their dialogue is when they see each other in person, there's almost always a "hey" breathed under their breathe. On the phone, they just get to the point. It's so minor, but it makes me smile.

"I think this op is done." "You sure? " "Yeah. I mean, he's got no crew, no product. It's over." "That's too bad." "Why?" "I was looking forward to another laundry room hookup."

You. Idiots. And I say that with all love! It's so nice to see these two really enjoying their relationship, dagnabbit.

"I need a big meal, a hot bath, and some quality sexy time and then I'm gonna sleep for 24 hours."

Lucy runs her hands down his stomach, but Tim's quick to grab her hands. He rubs her arm, as though reminding himself that she's real.

"What what is that? What? " I just... Isabel used to always crash after a long term assignment. It took her months to come back to life."

I have three children. The first two are twins. And they were born just a few months after my best friend had her first. Her second child was born about six months before my third child.

Yes, I have a point. Gimme a second.

I have dealt with two very different children from day one. I don't know what it is to be the mother of a single child. That was never my reality.

But my bestie was shocked by how different her second child was compared to her first. She'd only known one thing for three years, so she assumed that's how all babies would be.

It was simply lack of experience that led her to lean into her previous understanding thinking it was all she needed. That's Tim, here.

He knows that Lucy is different... but they've never done this before. He's never been the one she came home to after a UC assignment.

He's not equating everything to Isabel because he thinks Lucy is Isabel, but because he has no comparisons. Tim and Lucy are going to build that together, yes, but he honestly doesn't know how to do that.

We know that Isabel shut him out. Tim is terrified Lucy will do the same, even though he hasn't verbalized it... yet.

"You know what, I do have to come clean about something, though. I know I made you a promise to not watch Top Chef without me but I couldn't wait. I'm sorry." "Bad girlfriend." "No! No. I'm sorry." "Horrible!"

I'm sheepishly hiding my face because I'm so Lucy in this moment. My on-screen bestie and I have way too much in common.

Also, we needed that bit of levity to break up the scene. Because it's about to get heavy.

"So... Why didn't you tell me you almost died chasing down the shooter at the restaurant?" "Because I didn't. Who told you?"

It's shocking Lucy thought she would ever be able to keep the Five Player Trade quiet considering how quickly gossip moves through that station. Gee wiz!

"The gun was empty, right? So this is much ado about nothing."

A Shakespeare reference? Now I know our girl's been rubbing off on her man.

"Besides I know for a fact you don't tell me everything that happens when you're undercover." "No. you know for a fact that Isabel didn't. If this is gonna between us I need to know you can see the difference."

Here we go. They are finally having the conversation they need to have. Tim told Isabel that Lucy was different. We know he knows it. But he has to believe it, too.

"... listen, I need you to take it seriously if I ever sound the alarm about something. Otherwise the pain of what I went through would have been for nothing. And I can't lose you the way I lost her.

That "for nothing" is coming back around. It can't be for nothing.

And he can't lose her. He survived losing Isabel. Yes, it broke him. It broke him for a long time. But I don't know if he'd ever recover from losing Lucy. True love can have that effect.

"You won't. I'll walk away before it gets close to anything like that. Okay? I promise."

There we go. This was the piece Lucy was missing last week when she tried to broach the subject. She approached it as though it was something he needed to deal with. But relationships only work when we get through together.

This conversation doesn't make everything all better. They are still going to face obstacles and issues. But they are finally being open and honest in both directions about Lucy doing UC.

Tim and Lucy embrace, but this is different than any of their other hugs, and I wonder if it's intentional. Tim has always nestled into her right shoulder. Lucy usually has one arm up and one down.

This time, she almost scoops in underneath as he wraps both arms around her. She's nestled in his wings as he's held up by her strength.

"We can build a house away from here," the song says. And they could. They could both walk away. But we've established that this is the life they love, dangerous as it is.

And the more they fall in love, the more they both have something worst living for. And that's terrifying.

Have you ever been in love? The kind of love that reciprocates and grows? It's amazing. I've only experienced it once, with the love of my life. It's difficult, at times, but it's also rewarding.

And it amplifies the big stuff. Because you're now a part of something so much bigger than the individual. And for Tim and Lucy, putting their lives on the line means there's someone who will be destroyed if they die.

There's all the more reason to live, but that can't get into the decision-making process in the moment. "You have to keep your head in the game," Tim has said often.

Love conquers all, right? Sometimes, it merely complicates.

I'm grateful for this episode. The pacing and directing were so on-point all around, and I felt like all the on-screen characters had moments to shine without it feeling over-bloated. Just beautifully done all-around.

Thank you for reading, loves. This week has been a hard one in my life as I drove back to Wilmington to say what may be my last goodbyes to one of my best friends who I've known since we were 11. Cancer is the B-word.

Cherish the ones you love. Tell them often that you care. Make memories. Build dreams. Chase hope. Live this life, dagnabbit. I believe in you.

[aihoshiino]

What are your thoughts on how onk is handling ruby recently

So I've been rattling my brains about this since long before this ask – since the chapter 123 leaks dropped, if I'm honest and I think I'm at a place where my feelings are "I understand why these choices are being made, I just don't like that these are the choices they went with".

(I kind of talked about this elsewhere last week, by coincidence, so sorry to anyone about to see me repeat myself LOL)

As someone who really, REALLY loves Ruby, it feels like there's been a consistent failure to properly center her and give her focus and interesting things to do since around the start of Tokyo Blade. Black hoshigan Ruby (as I've mentioned in a previous post) was a really interesting and exciting opportunity to dig into Ruby's trauma and darker feelings that OnK is comparatively quieter on. But with the benefit of hindsight now that the arc is over, it's clear that the whole thing was just a plot cul-de-sac - if I were feeling particularly uncharitable, I would go as far as to call it filler to waste time until Aqua was back in revenge mode. She might not ping back to white stars until 123 but black hoshigan Ruby essentially ceases to be relevant once Aqua is back in the picture until she can be used to serve his arc again.

And the frustrating thing is - I was so, SO fucking excited to see how Ruby was being handled in the start of the movie arc! It felt like we were building up to a really fantastic examination of Ruby's relationship with all three of her mothers, and the way toxic motherhood in general trickles down and poisons someone for long after they're out of the environment of abuse. The incredibly strong and vivid depictions of Ruby literally triggering and retraumatizing herself by engaging with material that depicted Ai's own abuse and the way it dragged back memories of her own abuse and abandonment were so powerful and so scary - her pain absolutely overflowed out of every single page and the care and tenderness with which it was depicted made me feel so deeply for Ruby. This poor, poor girl who has been in so much pain for so long and has done her best to be happy and strong but is at last reaching her human breaking point - it was so fucking good!

The arc we were promised for Ruby at the outset of the movie arc was, no joke, exactly the sort of thing I had been hoping and praying for Akasaka to do for her ever since I got back into the series in April. I really, genuinely thought this was finally going to be Ruby's time to shine and achieve some meaningful healing and catharsis.

And then the arc completely switches tracks to be about Aqua instead and all we've gotten from Ruby since is incest bait and her simping over her brother.

To be clear, I am 100% aware I am being disingenuous here and that there is way more going on than my eyerolling dismissal of it, but I'm trying to get across how it feels for me as a Ruby enjoyer VS how my Themes And Characterization And Narrative brain logically understands what is going on.

It absolutely completely makes sense for Ruby to be behaving this way right now. Gorou was the first and only person in her short life as Sarina to make her feel safe and valued and cared for and having the miracle of their reunion granted to her after she was sure she'd lost him forever and just as she was at emotional and mental rock bottom? That shit was GUARANTEED to turn her brain into soup and Ruby developing confusedly romantic and unhealthy feelings for Aqua vis-a-vis projecting Gorou onto him when she is so desperately in need of comfort and support is maybe not pretty or flattering, but it feels honestly, authentically weird and messy and uncomfortable. Oshi no Ko's willingness to portray character relationships with enough of that honesty to just let them be weird and fucked up and icky and unhealthy sometimes is something I really, really appreciate about it.

My issue is not that this plot point has happened to begin with - my issue is with how it's been framed. This is partially exacerbated by the manga's schedule getting FUBAR'd just after this reveal dropped and thus forcing us to stew in what I imagine is still the relatively early stages of this new status quo for maybe longer than intended, but we have gotten little to no serious examination of how Ruby actually feels about any of this. Almost every interaction the twins have had since this reveal dropped has been incest bait jokes. The fact that Ruby was in the middle of a massively overdue bit of character development that was finally all about her and her feelings only for that to get thrown to one side in favour of her being all uwu oniichansensei and being treated like a comic relief character is just so, so deeply insulting and betrays such a huge lack of respect for Ruby and her feelings.

The relative shallowness and childishness of them is, I think, intentional and accepting this uncritically as yummy ship bait is clown behaviour - we are playing around in this space specifically to soften us up for when the twins finally have an open and honest confrontation about this, but all that means is that for the time being, I am being asked to laugh at and vicariously enjoy Ruby's unhealthy, fucked up feelings born from her deep trauma and to be perfectly frank that just leaves me feeling fucking insulted.

As a survivor of the little sister incest anime boom and a fan of Revolutionary Girl Utena, I simply have no patience for a series that purports to take itself and its characters seriously then turns around and plays sibling incest for nudgewink laughs and ship bait, especially when it has derailed and, in the short term, superseded and ruined what was shaping to be an exciting and deeply emotional character arc for a character desperately in need of focus.

[bloodtwin]

If they had a kid meme- THESE TWO! should be easy enough we've talk about it LMAO

IF THEY HAD A KID. // @silvertiefling

send me a pair name and I’ll tell you what I think it would be like if they had a child.

Name:  . . . Ember Blade Darlington . . .

Species: Werewolf, ❝ Tiefling ❞ ( Bhaalspawn )

Class: Barbarian / Rogue ( ？) <- little hunter like her parents vibes, yknow

Gender: Girlypop, she / her

General Appearance: Despite the fact that she looks like a tiefling like her mama, she is almost a carbon copy of Puck. She's kind of a miracle of extremely fucked up science in that she is just his severed finger chewed up & re-grown as a living, breathing creature. Thank you, Bhaal. Very cool.

( Obviously I couldn't actually make a carbon copy of Puck with a feminine frame, so I chose the face that had the most similar nose to his :~) I also gave her braids because Puck would absolutely braid her hair every day. I imagine when she's older she probably wouldn't actually have the same hairstyle she had as a kid LOL.  )

Personality: Now this is a mischievous little critter right here. She's definitely spoiled & it shows. Bossy, entitled, hot-headed, very stubborn. Bloodthirsty. She's got both of her parents' sailor mouths & an ego fit for royalty. Born to be a leader, considering her mom's an alpha werewolf & her dad's the head of a murder cult, so that just comes with the territory. 

However, Puck's big, beautiful heart is hereditary, so she also has a secret sweetness to her despite being raised by the most unhinged couple of all time. She may not be nice but she is kind when it matters most. I imagine she's also very sociable, probably a bit rowdy, because she's also getting babysat by an entire pack of werewolves on the side. Ha-ha, two anti-social freaks have to raise a little chatterbox. You're welcome.  

Special Talents: For sure an exceptional hunter. She's got a werewolf & a bhaalspawn as her parents, duh. Great aim. Loves knife-throwing. Learned it from her papa. :~)

Who they like better: Puck . . .   because someone went to go get milk five years ago & never came back. 🙄 Hehe no but I do think Ember would like Puck better simply because he's the more active parent. He is, after all, the one who actually wanted children in the first place LOL. 

Even though this is BT Puck therefore a more distant Puck because he's afraid of hurting Ember, he is still an incredibly loving, nurturing father who cares very deeply about his daughter & would do just about anything for her. However, I think Puck would be more overbearing & wayyy more over-protective than a post-BG3 Puck would be. I can see an angsty teen Ember liking Katya more because she's the fun parent who doesn't hover over her all the time. Though once she's out of that phase I think she'd probably go back to liking Puck more. At the end of the day, she is daddy's little monster. 

Who they take after more: . . .  So sorry for making everything about Puck, I don't mean to. Alas, this child is literally his finger, so I do think she's a lot like him, but she's a bit more abrasive than he is due to Katya's influence. Probably isn't as high-strung about rules & morality as Puck is. 

I think it's also Katya's fault that Ember has absolutely zero self-preservation, too. Both parents are incredibly, stupidly reckless, but Puck would at least try to teach her to be careful. In fact, he would insist upon it, but I don't think this lesson will ever stick in her brain because she has Katya's need for chaos. 

Personal Headcanon(s): Her real favorite is actually Auntie Iago. They keep her safe during daddy dearest's, ahem, episodes. Because of course he gets murder urges towards his own daughter. ( Not that said daughter doesn't also have murder urges because she absolutely does. He helps her manage those. ) So Iago taught her important lessons such as Self-Defense 101 & How to Play Dead. Also whimsy. She gets her whimsy from Iago. They used to play pretend together when she was itty bitty. :~) 

I also think it'd be cute if baby Ember was similar to baby Puck in that she didn't speak for a very long time. Puck used to rely on Iago to speak for him, so maybe Ember relied on Iago too . . .  Or maybe she exclusively communicated in growls & barks, perhaps . . .  Relies on Katya to translate those.

[maremote]

i watched tlou hbo ep. 2. giving it a 1.5/5. detailed list of compliants (and 2 things i liked!) below

I was hoping they wouldn't focus on the virus, but I guess they are. Disappointing but not surprising. I think the mechanics of a zombie story are the least interesting part UNLESS you've designed the story from the very beginning to center on the virus, which TLOU is absolutely not, so.

They're really insisting on the impossibility of a vaccine. I'm not sure where they're going with this. What would be cool is if they flipped halfway through or gradually evolved the prequels to show just how much of a miracle it is that Ellie is immune. Otherwise, if there's really no chance at a vaccine, that really kind of deflates the final choice.

"I think what really impressed them was that I didn't turn into a fucking monster," - awkward ass line awkward ass delivery

"You need to stop talking about this kid like she's got some kind of a life ahead of her," - Decent line, a little on the nose.

"Joel and I aren't good people" how about you show us that in any way shape or form instead of having Tess just tell us over and over again that her an d Joel are BAD and SCARY. All they've done so far is smuggle food and meds, get beat up, spoon in bed and try to find Joel's brother

"She told me not to tell anybody and now I'm telling the first people that I-" is an incredibly awkward line of dialogue that should not exist, so I can't even blame Bella for how bad the delivery was.

"Fuck you, man, I didn't ask for this," - compared to how game!Ellie delivers it I simply cannot accept show!Ellie's delivery.

Also, the placement of "fuck you, man, I didn't ask for this," doesn't make sense in retaliation to Joel saying that no cure has ever been found. In the game this is how the exchange goes down:

Ellie's saying "fuck you," because Joel is interrupting her story with sarcastic comments ("Yeah, we've heard that before, / Oh I'm sure she did.) In the show he's just sternly saying that he doesn't believe there's a cure. LET JOEL BE A DICK!

I wish there had been a pause in-between "Okay, Jesus, fine," and "I'll have to throw a fuckin' sandwich at 'em," with the last part maybe mumbled as an afterthought. It would've made the line come off as more natural.

Ellie's "concierge" moment is funny but doesn't make sense in terms of PLACEMENT AGAIN. At this point she has not bonded with either of them. In the game she makes the concierge joke MUCH later when she and Joel are somewhat bonded and not actively trying to get to a nearby location. Make it make sense!!! What is this bastardization!

I don't even hate most of Ellie's lines this episode but her delivery is just not doing it for me. Bella Ramsay's Ellie can be funny but it's not ELLIE. She has some funny moments but it's a different character it's not ELLIE sorry.

Tess knowing Joel raised a gun without even seeing him was a pretty good moment.

Already too much of a "family trip" vibe for me, with Tess and Joel and Ellie. In the original, Joel and Tess are making plans and leading the way and Ellie is just sort of quietly in back. That was for a reason.

Clicker fight scene was SO DARK I could not see Anything At All.

Ellie pointing the flashlight and Joel shooting was a cute moment but NOT THIS EARLY!! NOT THIS EARLY!! SAVE IT FOR WHEN THEY'VE ACTUALLY BONDED THEY'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BOND YET!!!!

Why are they so CLEAN!!

I did like that they swapped out a plank bridge for a bridge made of a ladder with planks layered on top.

"Save who you can save" felt forced as a line

WHY is Ellie fighting Joel on leaving.

Tess's death was um. That was one way to handle it!

[miracleweaponhunt]

Miracle Weapon Hunt Chapter 62: Thicker Than Water

Everyone stood in awe as Cassandra slowly got up to greet the woman in front of her. This was her mother. She didn't know how she knew, but the connection was just so obvious in her mind. It was like they talked every day. When they were face to face, the woman held onto her face, turning it ever so slowly. And that's when the tears in Cassandra's eyes went into overdrive, as she collapsed into her mother's arms and started bawling.

"I know, Cassandra." She whispered.

"Wait, Aspasia's your mother?" Kwadwo asked.

"Why, is she famous around here?" Julian asked.

"I mean, she runs the hospital."

"I'm sorry, Kwadwo?" Aspasia asked. "I know that a blood transfusion needs to happen, so I trust I can leave you to it?"

"Sure, go ahead."

"I'll need the shield you've got there, too." She said as she approached Xander. Xander glared at her, but obliged.

Kwadwo gave a confident thumbs up as he pulled a piece of paper from a fax machine containing the data.

"Oh, you're brothers with the same blood type. That should make things easier."

Kwadwo looked up from his paper to see Julian and Xander's shocked faces look at him, and then to each other.

"I'm guessing you didn't know that?" He asked.

"But…but…you were with the Legion." Julian muttered. He was actually stumped. The man across from him was related. His own brother was sent to attack him. His brother killed the king. But he felt his mind clear. When the Legion attacked and killed his parents, he saw their corpses. But his mind was filling in gaps of a third family member. He was never found. Between the move to Miracle and mourning them, he simply...forgot he existed.

"Do you need a minute?" Kwadwo asked.

"Just do the transfusion." Julian whispered.

Xander sat as Julian's blood was drained from his arm. His mind was probably filling with as many bizarre questions and realizations as him. When what remained of his arm was fully bandaged up, the two went to the rooftop rest area. A few other people were around in bandages and banged up looking wheelchairs, but they didn't pay much notice towards them. A nurse handed each of them a glass of water, which looked clean enough.

"So…how you feeling?" Julian asked, taking a sip of water. Tasted clean, at least.

"About what?" Xander snapped.

"Us being brothers, let's start there."

"Do I look like I care?"

"I mean, it's a pretty big revelation. You sure you don't feel anything?"

"Sorry, let me rephrase. Why should I care? I got kidnapped and made into a Legion slave, you got to live on the grands. We have nothing in common."

"I wouldn't go that far. I mean, we've both dealt with relics, and we both hate the Legion. Both two pretty big commonalities, are they not?"

"So what now, you want to ask a bunch of questions?" He asked.

"Yeah, questions." Julian nodded, taking another sip of water. "You know what Chelic wants with the weapons?"

"I think he just wanted them all in one place. Have the people's faith weakened, then strike at that moment. He had three of them."

"And you had two."

"Actually, yeah. The Gurut hammer. That wasn't there."

Xander looked into his water, seeing his confused face looking back at him. Someone had the weapon, and it wasn't him or Chelic. Someone got away.

"I take it you don't know?" Julian asked.

"Can't say I do."

"Well, we'll try figure that part out later. Next question, where's your posse?"

"Posse?"

"You know, your team? The girls who were with you."

"Tsuki's dead."

Julian tensed up.

"I'm sorry that happened." He sighed.

"And Priyanka's probably fucked as well." Xander tried to hold his head in his hands, but realized halfway through one was missing, so just used one hand.

"How fucked do you think she is?" Julian asked.

"Well, Chelic tried to kill me, so take a damn guess!"

He slammed his hand on the table and spilled the glasses. Julian grabbed a paper towel to sponge up the water while he calmed down. Julian waved a hand to signify the other patients they were free to go back to whatever they were doing.

"So, what are the chances she's being marked for death?" Julian asked when he sat down.

"Our best guess is that she's being tortured." Xander sighed. "They might try to pick her brains to see if she had any role in what Tsuki and I got up to."

"That buy us much time?"

"Chelic can read minds. Getting her chained up might take a while, but the whole operation would probably take a day, tops."

"Shit." Julian mumbled.

"Look, I know we were enemies for a lot of this relic business. But…you gotta help me! We have the same goal of getting back to the skies and beating Chelic. So once we find a way back there, we should have something, right?"

Julian looked across from him, seeming to be deep in thought.

"Beg."

"Excuse me?" Xander said, looking across from him to repeat that.

"Get on your knees and beg. After all you put us through, I think I'm owed that. God's sake, you broke my best friends leg."

"Oh. Well, I guess that makes sense." Xander whispered, slowly getting off his chair.

"Nah, I'm just messing with you." Julian said when he put a knee on the ground. "I was with you the whole time."

"Why would you-"

"Because it seemed funny." Julian shrugged. "Now, any idea how to get back?"

"All I know is propaganda that Chelic climbed a mountain and got to the skies somehow."

"So we can start there." Julian said as he got up. "Well, no time to stay here. Let's ask about a mountain."

Cassandra sat down with Roxanne in an otherwise empty room. Inside was a series of leather couches and some slightly battered bookcases holding all varieties of tomes. Mostly things like medical books. The walls clearly started white, but time yellowed them a fair bit. After a few minutes of silence, Aspasia walked in with a tray of three cups of tea. Cassandra took a cup and followed it up with a sip. It was the worst tea she had ever had. It was stirred well, but each individual ingredient still felt like a different layer on her tongue, somehow. She didn't think it was important to mention.

"So…mom." She said, trying to contain all the emotions stirring up inside her. But paradoxically, she didn't feel she actually had anything relevant to say. Besides Chelic, what was there to talk about?

"Where do you want to start?" Aspasia asked. "How about what we're supposed to be?"

"What we're supposed to be?" Cassandra asked.

"Now, this might sound strange to start with, but I'm essentially a demigod."

"I'm sorry, repeat that?" Cassandra asked.

"To put it simply, where we are is just one of millions of different worlds. Each one a variation that evolved differently. Think of a way society could be run, and there's a world that follows it. And there's probably hundreds run in ways you couldn't imagine. But these worlds will often need more divine beings to assure people don't go astray. And that's where I alongside another came in."

"So am I a goddess too?"

"Only in lineage. Becoming a demigod requires undergoing a test, and the results aren't passed on to our children."

"So I'm guessing the other person is Chelic?" Roxanne asked.

"He isn't, actually."

"Wait, he isn't? But he said he was my uncle."

"From a certain point of view, I guess so." Aspasia said, taking another sip of tea. "You see, two people representing two different gods are supposed to descend to the same timeline, and gradually drive the other out, claiming the territory for the god of their choice."

"And you won?"

"I lost." She sighed. "I wanted to make a world that was devoid of conflict. Everyone would live for each other and the world at large would work to make each day better than the last. My opponent was a man named Marcus, who represented the Olympian god Zeus, who pushed to industrialize the world as rapidly as he could. The issue is, this sparked the flames within humanity. The sparks of industry gave way to the fires of greed. Of conflict, which led to war. War led to those who profited from it spreading it further, until all that remained was a destroyed world and a few on top exchanging dirty looks. And it got too much to handle, those who caused it all escaped, along with Marcus."

"So where does Chelic come in?"

"Chelic lived here, in a neutral territory. He was a brilliant mind. Set to be the second in command at the hospital, and use his powers to run the psycology wing. But after hearing the origin of the Skyships, something snapped within him. He gathered a group to climb the highest peak in the continent without anyone knowing, about fifteen. Fourteen were found dead."

"So did he kill them?"

"Most seemed to be attacked by animals or died of starvation or poisoning. Seemed like terrible management as opposed to malice on his end."

"Also, you said this was always neutral, so was this place involved in any wars?" Roxanne asked.

"This place might as well be the middle of the world." Aspasia replied. "This place was always a hotspot, seeing as it's right between the old superpowers. Nobody outright conquered it, and the land was always important enough as a means to other places that nobody touched it. As the wars got worse, people sought refuge here. But whether by accident or malice, it was eventually bombed. Very few people survived the attack. But when everything died down, a few more people came in, followed my even more. We saw ships in the sky that housed those causing all this, and ruining the rest of the world. So we carried on when everyone assumed we died, eventually letting the world regrow as a natural shield. And I stayed to protect the ones I couldn't protect. But it was all thanks to a few great leaders that I was able to get the world running once again."

"So you're not in charge?" Cassandra asked.

"Nope. It's the family who helped me. And miss Roxanne, It's a family you just might be aware of."

[just-more-pr0mts]

Danny was not having a spectacular day. He never had dinner last night (thanks alot kitty) and was running late so no breakfast fro him. He tripped up the stairs on his way to school. He had gotten a pop quiz in maths. He got shove into a locker three times that day, Three! He barely hadtime to finish his lunch, thanks to the Lunch lady 'checking in' to see if there menu's were still 'okay'. And now he finally got home and all he wants to do is lay in his bed and SLEEP.

But of course Fenton Luck(tm) strikes again! Not even five minutes of laying down he's been summoned.

Danny was expecting a fight or something of that sort atleast. But when he comes to his senses and realizes his standing in front of the flipping justice league. He straightens up, fixed his bed head. Gotta impress Ms Wonder woman ma'am, pandora speaks very highly of her.

As it turns out there has been a slight miscommunication....they got that danny was the all powerful mighty ghost king and all, but they think his been the all powerful mighty ghost king for millenia.

Danny knowing they won't respond great at learning he is a child in thier eyes.Goes along with their little theory. And has a discussion on a peace treaty and alliance. And basically shitting his way through. He just wants to go home.

And after a long and tiring meeting, he finally gets to go home! Until a voice calls out to him asking if he could ask some questions. That voice was Batman. You can't directly say no to Batman. So he begrudgingly agrees.

Batman questions were quite, deep persay. He was trying to extract as much information as possible fromm him. His miracle saviour comes in as the form as captain Marvel.

"Oh yea he's been around for years, he and I go way back." Captian marvel interups Batmans question on how old he is before Danny even has a chance to reply. "But I didn't know you became ghost king dude!" He pointedly looks at Danny.

Danny snaging the opportunity reply "Yeah I'm so sorry it was this huge thing with pariah Dark and blah blah, you know it goes" Danny heaved a sigh, "He finally got on my last nerves so I.. ynkow" he gestures vaguely.

"Finally I've been telling you he's been bad news from the start" Captain marvel does a weird hand signal " We've gotta catch up some day dude"

Danny immediately understanding that this hunk of a man is probably in the same position as him, desperately tries to school his features and stop him from laughing out loud says. "Indeed, you were right, and im afraid im on a bit of a tight schedule, how's about we meet up for some of the realms fierce melon drinks?"

Shazam is extatic, his theory was correct "Of course I'll see you soon old friend"

Danny pulls a knife out of his seemingly invisible pocket, slashes at the air and a large rift appears with a swirling green inside.

He turns to face the league. " my most Lukewarm regards to you all" and hops through the rift as it closes.

In a unanimous unspoken design they all turm to Captain marvel in search for answers, obviously confused at the greeting.

"Phantm must think quite highly of you all to use such a greeting" shazam says in false awe, as the league start gossiping about what just happened.

Because you wanted something like this @fuck-you-too-world

I wanna see danny and shazam faking it till you make it together

They both got majer responsibilitys at a young age. Both are ppwerful, danny being king or the infinite realms and shazam being the champion of magic they both know the struggels and duty while getting no gratitude.

They would get along perfectly.

What i imagine is during some cutl BS they find out there is a new, better, king of the infinet realms and seek to build a relationship with him, y'know for good connections. But they asumed he was several melenia old.

So they summon danny, and boom phantom comes out looking a little disgruntled at being summoned out of the blue, they talk and phantom agrees to an alliance on certain conditions and basicly acting like a responsible king.

But shazam sees through it, sees the child thats barly gilding on, that was given too much power because he was the only one worth of it. And it reminds it of him self.

So when batman starts questioning phantom, shazam steps in saying that they knew each other and have for melenia, he just didnt know he got the tital of ghost king.

Danny while confused, saw the signs that shazam too was a child like him, decided to ask about it later, and went with it.

Now imagine batman, THE BATMAN, getting his questions getting shut down by too sassy melenia old beings, who apparently know eachother.

While danny and shazam are internally loosing their shit, hopping to every god there is that no one catches on that their BS them, while simultaneously dreading the conversation they know they have to have.

And the reast of the JL are happily oblivious and excited to get a new friend

[bluecookies02]

When they make you cry

pairings: Hawks x Reader, Dabi x Reader, Bakugou x Reader, Aizawa x Reader, Izuku x Reader, Tamaki x Reader

Tamaki, Bakugou and Hawks are in a female!reader perspective, the rest of them are Gender Neutral

warnings: angst to fluff

masterlist

Hawks will get cocky, laughing in your face when he sees your shocked expression.

Both of you were going at each others throats, spitting insults to one another, just your recent daily routine.

Now Hawks knew you were a tough gal, which in his head made it alright for him to strike a really painful nerve into your chest.

As you remained speechless he turned around, a winning smirk plastered on his lips.

Just as he took a few steps forward, sobs wrecked your body as you hid your face in your hands.

"I d-don't think I can take this anymore Keigo" your broken voice reached his ears.

A pang of guilt pierced his chest once he turned around to face you.

He did this. He made you cry. He completely drained your happiness out. He hurt you.

His teeth dug into his lip, his eyes stinging as tears picked at them.

At that point, he didn't give two shits about who's right and who's wrong, his arms reaching for you and wrapping themselves around your shaking form.

He held you there for a while, listening to your cries that gradually turned into soft sniffles against his chest.

"I-" He opens his mouth but his words remained stuck at his throat.

"I don't want us to end..." you mumbled, your own words throwing you into another sobbing fit.

"We won't end here kid, I've got you...shit...I'm a fucking idiot...of course we won't end sweetheart...c'mon look at me" he raised your chin up gently, looking into your red eyes.

"I'm sorry, fuck I'm sorry...not just for today, for every day before this, I-, God... don't leave kid, p-please"

You stared at his face, tears now streaming down his cheeks as his grip on you tightened.

You swallow the lump in your throat, grabbing his hands in yours.

"Something has to change Keigo...I miss you...we've been distant for months. Sometimes you don't even come home to me, do you know how that feels?"

"I know, I know, I swear... I miss you too. I'll tell you about everything I promise. Let's go home please."

You hesitantly nod, putting your heart on the line for the last time.

And now looking back, you're glad you did.

//quirk: flesh manipulation (the reader can manipulate the molecules in a person's flesh just by touching it, making them useful mid-battle to make the other heroes ready to fight again in a matter of seconds, but also making them a threat to their enemies )

If there was one thing he despised about you, it was your guts.

Hell curse him for falling in love with someone so stubborn.

To live through a relationship with Dabi meant that you had to have though skin. You had to be strong enough to bite your cheeks and endure the issues that people in regular relationships never face.

He enters your home, covered in bruises and cuts, asking for your first aid kit.

You sigh to yourself, your usual nagging and yelling never reaching his ears.

You place the first aid kit onto your bedside table, turning your back to him, tiredly walking out of the room.

"Hey-" his voice calls out to you, quiet and confused.

You close the door behind you, making your way to your couch.

One of these days it'll be the last time he walks into your home, the last time you help him clean his cuts and the last time you hear his voice.

The weight of uncertainty pulls at your chest harder with every passing day.

He chose to continue living like this, he is the one that keeps ruining his own life, it's his ambitions that are making you this miserable.

Once he patches himself up, he sits on your bed for a while. Your silance meaning one thing and one thing only. You finally realized how pointless being with him is, you finally got it through your thick skull that he's nothing special to dwell about.

Time passes by quickly, a few hours already gone yet he's still glued to the same spot, not having the strength to leave your room, too scared to face your rejection once he gets out.

He should be happy for you, you won't be hurting anymore, you'll be able to find someone better.

He slowly twists the knob, taking slow steps through your living room.

You are laying on your couch, tear stains on your face and a tissue crumbled in your hand.

His chest tightenes at the sight. You cried yourself to sleep. He wonders... how many times did you cry over him? How many times would you just lay here as he carelessly roamed the streets?

He should leave...he should spare you the pain he brings. You were the only good thing in his life and by continuing this he'll ruin you, piece by piece.

You showed nothing but kindness to him, you made him realize that some people are worth getting close to, you being a hero also making his resolves shake under his feet.

He stretched his arm out to your cheek, careful not to wake you up.

He left a soft kiss to your temple before leaving your house.

-----

You woke up to a persistent ring of your doorbell.

You felt terrible...your hair was a mess, your nose was all clogged up and your eyes burned from all the crying.

You opened your door with annoyance, mad at whoever decided to burst your sadness bubble.

"Hey doll, I would've let myself in but my hands are kinda busy"

Your boyfriend stood there with a backpack on his shoulder and a carton box in his hands.

"So...do you happen to have a room to spare for a year or two...maybe three?"

You stare in disbelief your hand covering your mouth.

"I know that me being a villain might be a setback but...I got some hair dye? I might even consider letting you fix my jigsaw face."

Your body crashed into his, the box dropping to the ground as you squeezed your arms around him.

Maybe he can make you as happy as you make him.

You knew he was rough around the edges, but you never even imagined that you would be the one his rage would be directed at.

As soon as insults came crashing your way you left the room.

You were just trying to calm him down, placing your hand on his shoulder as you urged him to stop shouting and just let it go.

His rough hands grabbed yours, throwing your hand away like you were a mere fly, his quirk burning your skin.

You tried calling out to him just for him to snap around and scream at you.

Once you reached your dorm tears freely rolled down your cheeks.

You yearned for a normal relationship, longed for some peace and quiet just for a week or two.

Yet you just couldn't let the blonde go, always hoping for some miracle to come your way and take ahold of his ego.

--------

It's around 2 am and he can't fall asleep for the hell of it.

You're not picking up his calls nor answering his texts and you've been inactive on social media for hours.

Kirishima has been urging him to go to your dorm for two hours already, spamming him massages about him not being manly enough to win you back.

It's not like he doesn't want to, he just has no idea how to. Should he get you something? Get you some food and flowers? Where the fuck can he find all these things at 2 am? Isn't that how people in movies apologize or something...

He hates when you're mad at him, he is scared shitless of actually scaring you off and pushing you away.

A knock at your door snaps you out of your thoughts and a small flame of hope warms your heart for a split second as you make your way to your door.

He's holding a gray hoodie and a pair of bento boxes.

"That's not gonna fix it Katsuki."

"I know shitty woman you didn't even give me a chance to speak!"

You're sure that that's the first time Bakugou said the word "sorry" in his whole life.

The way it rolled off his tongue was shaky but somewhat determined, his hand grabbing ahold of yours gently.

Guilt was evident on his face as he stroked the bandages covering your hands.

"It's not that bad Katsu, and I understand that it was an accident." you mumbled trying to pull from his grip so he can focus on something else.

He grabbed ahold of your wrists, bringing your palms to his lips.

"I'll work on it, I promise. It'll never happen again. I mean it." you just give a soft nod, leading him to the table.

"Good. Now let's eat, breakfast is the most important meal of the day!" you cheered, opening the bentos and stuffing your mouth with rice.

"Y/N...it's 4 am."

"Exactly, now eat, you're not gonna let me eat all of this by myself?!"

For this man, it was close to impossible to make his s/o cry.

He cherishes the relationship he has with you, making you feel special every single day at a time.

So when he sees you crying, he's confused and alarmed.

He reaches for you, trying his best to give you the comfort he thinks you need.

When you push his hands away and scream at him...Oh boy...

He's terrified.

Did he do something? Did he forget your anniversary? Your birthday? Did he eat your snack from the fridge??

You're pulling at the strands of your hair, your head buried into your knees as you sob.

He looks around, eyes widening when he sees a photo of himself and some girl kissing on the screen of your phone.

He wasn't there? He has proof! He was in a meeting! All of his colleagues could confirm that, he just needs you to listen! Please listen to him.

He's talking...blabbering...begging for you to just look at him.

As soon as you look up for a split second, he's hugging you, smothering your face in kisses as you weakly try to push him away.

Finally he leans his forehead against yours, letting out a long sigh of relief when he realizes that you're not crying anymore.

"Please Shouta, please, if you even have any respect for me, don't lie to me." you mumble out coldly, turning your head from him.

"Y/N, I would never, ever do that to you! Never! I love you so much, please, you have to know that, you do know that!"

You're too stubborn, but he calls all of his colleges one by one, putting them on speaker for you, asking about the time of the meeting or details of the meeting and they all have the same answer.

So now, your throat is dry and there's a lump in your throat, guilt eating at you as you try to apologize.

He couldn't give two shits about any of that, all he has to know is that you're okay and that you're still his.

He's not letting you go for the rest of the day, you're wrapped under the blankets with him as he makes sure you never believe the bullshit you see online.

"Sweetheart if I ever cheat on you, that's the day I cut my own dick off and bleed to death."

It makes you giggle and then laugh hysterically and he's just looking at you with the biggest heart eyes 🥺

Izuku would never do anything to make you cry.

He pays attention to every single detail in your relationship and he especially pays attention to your feelings.

What he is really bad at, is taking care of himself.

He doesn't take in consideration how you feel when he comes home all stitched up and tired, or how he stays up late to train and push himself further than his body can take.

However one day, he is exhausted from his training and he barely has any strength left. His phone rings and he is rushing out the door, already panting.

You don't reach him in time to stop him, so here you are, hours later next to his hospital bed.

The villain wasn't too powerful, but his state caused him to pass out in the middle of the bettle field.

As soon as he wakes up, you're yelling at him, but at the same time sobbing against his chest.

"I can't just stand here and watch you hurt yourself Zuku... I can't, I can't, I can't....O-one of these days you're just gonna slip away from my hands, I can't. Please" You're grip on him softens as you loose the strength in your hands.

His arms wrap themselves around you, trying his best not to flinch as you rub against his bandages.

His eyes are watering, realization dawning on him as he holds your tired body against him.

You're right...He sees the state of himself after a lowlife villain with a pathetic quirk sent him into the hospital. He doesn't even want to think about what would've happened if there was someone much stronger out there.

"Hey Y/N...I-...I might take a week off, to rest yeah? Does that sound good?"

You nod, wiping away the tears as you sniffle.

"And you won't be training at night anymore. And you won't be staying up late!" you scold as he rubs your cheeks.

"I won't. I promise." he places a kiss at your temple, pulling you onto the hospital bed next to him.

"Let's sleep for a bit yeah? I might owe you a few hours..."

You're crying, he's crying.

He's down on one knee and he's stuttering, his hands shaking as he hears you cry out a happy "Yes".

He barely gets the ring on your finger, burying his head into your neck as soon as he gets to his feet.

You always thought that he was going to propose to you at home, maybe some homecooked dinner with roses and candles. You didn't mind that option either.

You were surprised that he even suggested a walk in the park.

I mean, it was a really small park with little to no people in the area but it was beautiful nonetheless.

You're all giddy and happy as he takes your hand in his, his eyes always glancing at the ring on your finger.

Once you spot an ice cream stand you leap in happiness, rushing to get ice cream for the both of you.

The lady selling it smiles brightly at you.

"Is that the lucky guy?" you nod grabbing your icecream as Tamaki hides behind you.

"Good job sweetheart, you're making this lady very happy, I can feel it in my old bones" you laugh at her remark as you nudge Tamaki forward.

She hands him his ice cream and winks at him.

He's blushing and thanking the lady before running off to an empty bench.

”He’s a lil’ shy but he's got the spirit” you say to the lady as you rush off to get him.

You take the time to really study the ring, the beautiful blue crystal shining in the sun.

”I...I hope you l-like it...Nejire helped me out. Uhm I probably shouldn't have said that...S-she-"

"I like it Tama...I love it actually" you place a gentle kiss just at the corner of his lips, his hands grabbing your cheeks and kissing you deeply in return.

His cheeks are warm and his lips are slow against yours but you melt against him, letting him place you in his lap.

"Oh my God, I have a fiancé, oh my God, I have to call Mirio and tell him you said yes. You said yes, right?"

You laugh as you shake your head at him, playing with his hair as he fumbles with his phone.

All of the pictures are from the original anime/manga (please do correct me if I'm wrong in the comments below)

The Tamaki one has no angst in it because I had to heal from all of the emotional rollercosters.

___________

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[topazy]

Chosen side

Pairings: John Murphy/reader Bellamy Blake/reader (past relationship)

Warnings: swearing, mentions of blood and cannibalism

Chapter: 5.03

You had watched emotionless as Clarke fought to save her mom, who was overdosing on pills. You had no choice in it since Clarke had tied your hands and feet together so you wouldn’t escape.

You now sat in a small room inside a church that she had dragged you into. “Tell me about him, your son.”

“Go to hell!” Clarke sighed before pulling out her knife. “What the fuck are you doing now?”

“I’m sorry. But I need to know for myself,” Clarke pulled your bound hands forward and cut the palm of your hand to see what colour your blood was. She dropped the knife to the floor when she saw it was red.

“This is why you brought me, isn’t it? You thought I was nightblood.”

She looked deep in thought before replying. “How old is your so-”

Your forehead connected with her nose before she could finish the question. “I overheard everything you told McCreary. Everyone I love is going to die because of you. But if by some miracle we make it through this and you lay a finger on my son, I will kill you.”

“We've all got blood on our hands, don't we? You might think you're innocent, but nobody who survived in that bunker is.”

You clenched your jaw. “I did what I did to survive. You’ve done terrible things just because you want to feel powerful from it. To be in charge, to be the commander of death.”

Clarke held your glare. Your hand twitched slightly as blood dripped from the cut onto the ground. Your attention was drawn to the door as multiple voices could be heard on the other side. You recognise one of them instantly.

Raven

As you opened your mouth to call out, Clarke hit you on the head with the end of her gun, knocking you out.

—

“The fungus infection has destroyed everything. We have no other choice.”

You shuddered at Abby’s words. “I’ve already told you I’m not eating my dead friends.”

“If you eat, then so will others. Please Danica, I’m begging you.”

Frowning, you ignored her words. You’d been against the unthinkable idea since she suggested it. Abby had been manipulating Octavia for months, but you could see through the good doctor act.

“You’ll get thrown into the fighting pits,” Abby said, in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Octavia isn’t going to kill me because I’m not participating in cannibalism!” You spat.

“You’re right, I won’t,” Octavia finally spoke up.

She glanced at Indra, who put her head down. Octavia stood up to address everyone in the room. “We honour those who died so we could live. Maybe I wasn't being clear.” You jumped out of your seat when she pulled a gun out of her belt and pointed it at you. “Eat.”

“Octavia..what are you doing?” Kane asked, horrified.

“You are Wonkru, or you are an enemy of Wonkru.”

Your brain screamed at you to eat, but you remained frozen in place with fear. Was she really going to shoot you? You looked at her through shocked eyes and said, “This isn’t you, O. Put the gun down.”

Octavia blinked away tears and aimed the gun at Joaquin, who was sleeping in the chair beside you. “Just take a bite.”

You lunged in front of him. “Stop! Stop! I'll eat. Just get that thing away from him!”

The room filled with horrified gasps as onlookers watched as their leader threatened the life of the little boy who called her Auntie O.

Tears spilled out of your eyes as you took a bite of meat. Once you had swallowed it down, Octavia left your table to force others to eat as well. When they didn’t, she killed them.

“Echo?” You groaned.

Your surroundings were mostly a blur, but you could make out Echo and Madi on either side of you, as you moved towards a bright light.

“Hey, hey!” Echo gripped your chin with her free hand. “We are almost there. Stay with me.”

The ground gave way beneath you before you had a chance to respond.

—

Hearing the sound of soft voices, you sit up fast, only to feel a shooting pain inside your head. You open your eyes to see Bellamy and Harper kneeling beside you. You were leaning against a wall in a hallway full of sick or injured people.

“Where’s Joaquin?” You asked, panicked.

“He’s fine,” Bellamy assured you. “Echo’s watching him. What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Clarke hit me on the head,” you hissed.

You could hear lots of commotion going on in a different room. The look of worry on Harper's face concerned you. “What’s wrong?”

“We are going back into space… Not everyone is back yet, and we can’t wait much longer.”

You knew, by the look on her face, that Monty was one of them. You were surprised to feel a bandage wrapped around your head. How hard has Clarke hit you?

You stumble to your feet, but Bellamy catches you. He frowned, “What are you doing?”

“I need to find Joaquin.”

“You need to rest.”

You raised your brows, “I’m looking for my son.”

Bellamy shook his head disapprovingly, but walked beside you until Raven’s voice boomed through the halls. “Uh, guys? Look up. We can't wait. We have to close the door.”

“We are waiting for them!” Bellamy called back, before running to the doors of the ship.

“Who’s not back yet?” You asked standing beside him.

“Emori, Murphy, and Monty,” Clarke said, standing beside you. “Bellamy, we have to go.”

You zoned out momentarily as adrenaline rushed through your body. Every time the blonde fucked you over, it replayed inside your head. It took every ounce of strength you had to not smack her.

“Mom!”

Joaquin clung to your side as you wrapped your arms around him. “Hi baby, I missed you so much.”

“Please don’t go again.”

The shakiness in his voice broke your heart. He was a confused kid who thought his only parent had abandoned him. You crouched down so you were eye level with him, “I promise I’m not leaving you again, ever.”

“There they are!” Harper yelled.

For the first time in six years, it felt surreal that you were going to see so many people who meant a lot to you. Including the father of your child. Bellamy rushed out and helped Murphy into the ship, followed closely by Monty and Emori.

While Murphy was taken into med straight away, Shaw and Raven took off before the blast managed to reach the ship. You held Joaquin tightly until the shaking stopped.

—

You were walking towards med when Raven stepped out in front of you. She had tears in her eyes and smiled.

Pulling her into a hug, you said, “hey, Reyes.”

“I’m so glad to hear your voice. I thought Clarke had really done some damage when they couldn’t get you to wake up in the rover.”

“What rover?” You ask, pulling back.

She chuckled, “It doesn’t matter right now.” She was practically beaming, looking at the small boy standing shyly behind you. Raven kneeled down and reached her hand out to shake his, “and who’s this?”

“This is Joaquin, my son,” you said, running your fingers over his head. “Joaquin, this is-”

“You make things go boom!” He said, excited.

“I certainly do,” Raven said as she stood up again. “I see we have a lot to catch up on.”

“We definitely do, Reyes,” you said, your smile fading. “First I need to go to med and speak to John.”

Raven looked at you quizzically. Her eyes moved back to Joaquin and then to you again. “You need to see John Murphy?”

Joaquín’s head shot up, “My last name is Murphy too.”

The brunette's lips parted into an O shape as she put the pieces together. She nodded, “You need to go see Murphy.”

“Thanks Reyes, I’ll catch you after. Thanks for saving our asses again!”

She shook her head and laughed, “yeah, good luck.”

—

Knots twisted in your stomach as you waited for Murphy to leave med.

Harper had spotted you pacing back and forth nervously and asked if Joaquin wanted to go see his uncle Monty at work. Of course, he said yes. You were so thankful for her; you truly couldn’t have asked for a better friend than Harper. Six years was a long time to be apart, but you’d have the rest of your lives to make up for it.

When Murphy entered the corridor, he walked straight to you and drew you into him tightly. His cheek rested atop your head while yours rested against his chest. Reluctantly, you drew back from his warm embrace and looked up at him. No words needed to be said, as your actions showed you’d both missed each other.

He wiped away your tears with his thumb and said, “I’m sorry for leaving you in the bunker.”

You’d spent six years imagining what it would be like to see him again, how he’d react, what you’d say to each other. Murphy apologising to you wasn’t what you imagined.

“Don’t be. We can’t change anything that’s happened. All we can do is focus on surviving whatever’s next.”

Murphy pressed his forehead against yours. Slowly, he tilted his head until his lips were lightly touching your own. With a sigh, you stepped back. “I need to tell you something. Before Praimfaya, we had our fun.”

“Do you regret it?” You can hear the worry in his voice.

“No, never,” you gulp down, knowing what you are about to say will change his world forever. “I don’t know how to tell you this, so I’m just going to say it. You got me pregnant. We have a son.”

You stood in tense silence, waiting for him to reply.

[mistrdctr]

The way Tony looks at him makes Stephen feel as if he's in his twenties again - some hot stuff walking straight out of college, ready to take on the world and become a well-known neurosurgeon.

That time is long gone, however; He's in his mid-fourties now, and not only has his hair aged with him, his skin did too at places - there's crows feet now, lines along his forehead, those things. And yet Tony just... gazes at him in that way that makes Strange's heart skip a beat, cause it to stumble briefly before it picks up a quicker pace, sending a bit of heat straight into the tips of his ears which will definitely turn into an awkward shade of red.

And he wonders if he himself is looking at the man in just the same way, simply because Stephen does feel a bit like he's some teenager in love at this very moment. He's too old for that kind of sensation, and the both of them definitely got to know each other on a bit of a rocky hill there, but... well...

Things change, it seems, and now here the sorcerer is, so incredibly glad that none of those thousands of futures came to life that included Iron Man's death. He's lost an arm, yes, but besides that he's still here, calling him pretty (oh, that's doing things there!), wondering why Stephen even thinks of that to begin with.

"---I just cannot believe how incredibly lucky I am." It's the truth, and being here, kissing Tony in the most cheesiest of ways, just made him realize that once more. Millions of outcomes wouldn't have allowed them to be here, and yet, for some odd miracle, the one where this douchebag survives and they defeat Thanos has happened. That's basically impossible, yet here they are.

Sure, Tony is lucky too. They both are. Fuck.

With a soft smile returning to his own features, Stephen's thumb starts to trail along a set of lips, fingertips continuing to rest on a sharp jawline. He takes a breath, then arches a brow, tilting his head a little as bright irises gaze into deeper, darker ones.

"Sorry, fucking sappy, I know. It's probably the whole fact that we've just kissed at that perfect moment when those fireworks started to explode outside - oscar-worthy, huh?"

@mistrdctr

Tony didn't mind the moment feeling a little over the top or cheesy. He was happy, that was all that mattered. Happy to be close to a man who made his heart flutter and his cheeks flush. Happy to be alive after everything that they had gone through, not only last year but the years previous to that. Happy that he had found a group of people that felt like a family to him. They were flawed yes but that was what made them work so well.

As their kiss broke, Tony stayed silent, admiring the sorcerer's face. His thumb brushed over his cheek, his other hand now moving down to rest against his hip. He gazed into the other's eyes, smiling to himself. God this man was beautiful and he was sure he knew it. But it couldn't hurt to tell him right?

He'd been about to when Stephen brought up something even he hadn't been expecting. His brows furrowed, though he didn't pull away from the other. Instead, he leaned into Stephen's hand once more, turning his head so he could press his lips against his palm.

"I'd imagine there were a good few times when you looked through all our... what was it... 14,000,065 futures," he replied, trying to lighten the mood even just a little. "But hey... I'm still right here Stephen. I might be a little more scarred than before... and have this," he raised the hand that had been holding onto Stephen's waist - a metal prosthetic built in the same colour scheme as the armour he would wear, "but I'm still here. I'm not dying any time soon ok?" He paused, his gaze lingering on Stephen's face. "What made you think of that? What's going on in that pretty head?"

[abbatoirablaze]

The Avenger's Initiative, Chapter 18

Word Count:  2.8k

Warnings:  NSFW. This chapter contains adult content. Mentions of forced sex/rape, alcoholism, mental illness, drug abuse, noncon, and also mentions of suicide.

Steve’s POV

I tried to take another step, but everything felt hazy. Closing my eyes, I leaned against the wall. Nausea dragged me into another wave as I felt the bile rise in the back of my throat.  

Come on Steve.  

Make it to the elevator.  

You got the pills.  

Just a few more steps.  

"I'm not Dani," she pleaded, crying even louder, "please. Stop. Captain Rogers. Stop."

"Shh," I cooed as I tried to ride out my high. I groaned, trying to think of my perfect little bunny as my hips snapped into Dani again, "you're doing so good, bunny. Taking me so well. Such a good girl for your Captain…keep taking it like a good girl."

"Please, stop!"

I tried chasing my high as she clenched down on me, but her sobs kept ruining it. No matter how hard my hips snapped into her I kept hearing her grating voice. The images of Mira faded away and I was left with the sobbing mess beneath me.

"Clean yourself up," I growled, unable to finish, "and stop fucking lying, Dani. There's no getting out of it. You're the reason I lost her."

Opening my eyes, I realized that I was outside of Dr. Banner's office.

I watched as she talked excitedly with him about something, pointing to things that were projected on her workstation and I sighed to myself.  She looked so fucking happy.  

Without me.  

My bunny.

My scared little bunny.

So jumpy and sweet.

You were so safe tucked away in my arms.

"Bunny!"

Her body language changed immediately. She straightened up and looked behind her to see me there. Waiting.

Her expression dropped as if she were expecting it to be someone...anyone other than me.

"This is for Steve?"

"You came."

"Yes, Miracle, this is a session for Steve," the therapist droned on, "During my last session with Captain Rogers we had talked about your relationship with him."

"I didn't have a relationship with him," she said immediately, shaking her head, "you must be-"

"I'm sorry," the therapist sighed, cutting her off, "when I say relationship, I mean that there was a kinship there. A connection. Not necessarily a romantic one."

"Oh."

Her expression changed again, and I caught it. That little glimmer in her eyes. Sadness.  Was she upset that the therapist so readily agreed there was no relationship between us?

I smiled to myself, "You came."

"Steve, you already said that."

I nodded, pacing back and forth like I had been for the past twenty minutes while I waited for her to arrive.

"Would you like to take a seat, Miss Daniels?"

"Okay."

She sat down, and the therapist looked at me, "Steve."

Not saying anything I came over to the last chair, sitting directly across from her. She just stared at me.

"H-how can I help?"

"Steve needs to confront the person he hurt the most...and we've come to the conclusion in the last few sessions that person is you, Miracle."

"Me?"

I saw her jaw twitch.

"B-bunny, I just want you to know how sorry I am," I tried. I took her hands in my own and pulled them closer to me, "You are the best thing that's ever happened to me...and I've hurt you so-"

"The person you hurt the most is Mackenzie, Steve," she growled, ripping her hands from me, "the girl you raped. Someone who used to be my best friend. She tried to kill herself because of you. She-"

"Miracle, this isn't conducive to the environment I'm creating for Steve."

"I don't care," she said with a shake of her head, "the environment you're creating is only fitting in to whatever sickness having him on ice for so long obviously caused. He raped someone. He let her become suicidal and called her a liar. He fucking damaged he-"

"I think that's enough," the therapist said quickly. She got between Mira and me and ushered her towards the door, "you shouldn't be in here."

"Wait!" I pleaded as she pushed her out of the room.

It was my fault.

I sighed as I watched her.

She laughed at something Bruce said, touching his arm.  

The way he looked at her.  He smiled back and they both turned back to the workstation, pointing and changing things. 

My existence didn't matter to her.

I was just some asshole superhero who wasn't really a superhero.

A rapist.

Pulling the bottle of pills from my pocket, I popped the lid off and poured as many into my mouth as I could. 

Fuck waiting. 

Some of them started dissolving on my tongue before I could take a big enough swig of the ale Thor had laying around in the common area.

Ignoring the bitter taste, I fought against my gag reflex on every urge I had to spit them out.

I stood along the wall, trying to gain enough of a sense to start walking...at least that's what I wanted to tell myself.  

But in all reality, I couldn't stop watching her.  

God she was so fucking beautiful.  

So, fucking perfect.  

After a few minutes I began to feel dizzier. I could feel my heart rate spiking in my chest, and my legs became wobbly. Dropping the ale, the glass clattered and broke on the second bounce, spilling the rest of the contents among the hallways. I dropped the empty bottle to the ground beside it.

I saw her and Bruce turning towards the noise.  

She stared at me.  

And her eyes held it.  

Concern.  

Fuck.  

Everything felt hazy. My eyes were open, and I could see the hallway that led to the common area. My eyes closed and when they opened again, I was kneeling in the beer and glass. 

I need to throw them up.  I need to make it stop.  

My eyes closed for another second and when they opened again, she was standing, like an angel in front of me.

I couldn't make out the words she was saying.

But she looked frantic. 

The worry was written across her whole body. 

I tried to reach out to her as she grabbed one of the pills that had managed to make its home on the floor, among the discarded pill bottle and beer. I tried to grab at her hand when I saw that she cut it open on some of the glass.

"Stop," I pleaded, trying to take her hand, "you-you're cut.  Let me clean you up."

"STEVE STOP!" she pleaded, tears running down her cheeks.  She grabbed my face with the hand that wasn't cut, "What did you take?" 

Fuck.

Yet another thing she could blame me for.

I felt a weightlessness take over me and I closed my eyes, leaning back against the sunlight that was pouring through the tower window.

"Banner!  BRUCE!" she yelled. I felt a sharp pain across my face, "BANNER WE NEED TO PUMP HIS STOMACH!"

Once.

Twice.

"God damn it, Steve," she growled loud enough for me to hear. I smiled feeling the warmth of the sun across my chest, "Steve wake up!  BRUCE GET TH-"

But I was out, slipping into a peaceful slumber…one where my bunny wanted me just as much as I wanted her.

Mira’s POV

The steady beeps filled the room.

I sat nervously, biting at the cuticles of my nails as I waited.

"Mira, go get some sleep!"

I looked up to Tony, shaking my head, "can't."

"Capsicle will still be here in a few hours," he sighed, trying to nod me to the door, "get some food. Sleep. Shower. I don't care. Just do something. You've been in here two days waiting on him."

"Did you know that he was still drinking?"

Tony shook his head, looking between me and Steve, "no. Therapist thought he had sobered himself up after we got back. But apparently, he never stopped...just got better at hiding it. Nat and Buck went through his room. Found a lot of empty bottles. Pills and alcohol."

"Great," I said sarcastically, looking at Steve, "Just fucking great."

"It's not your fault you know that…right kiddo?"

"Feels like it," I groaned, "it feels like everything that goes wrong around here is my fault."

"He tricked all of us!"

"Last week," I began, looking at him, "When that intern came to get me. Banner asked me a favor. Sit in a therapy session because they thought it would do him good. I ended up yelling at him that he was nothing more than a rapist because he thought I was the person he hurt the most."

"Well maybe you were."

"I think raping my best friend is worse than what he did to me," I spat, "I mean, he didn't do anything to me."

"Maybe that's why it was worse," he shrugged, "I've heard you talking to Bruce about it when he does his little therapy sessions with you. Even before you were abducted you and Steve formed an instant connection."

"So what. He was my friend!"

"And maybe that's why it was worse," he replied, "he made you feel safe. He earned your trust. He encouraged your relationship to thrive with him even after your jaw got broken. You would only let him touch you. He betrayed that trust by showing you that he was only showing you one side...the superhero he shows the rest of the world."

"Why wou-"

"Kid, you wanted him to show you who he is and when he didn't, you realized you were like a fish on a hook in a barrel and he'd thrown a stick of dynamite in," he laughed smugly, cutting me off, " Steve showed you what he shows everyone else, so that when you saw the real him you were mortified. He made you feel safe and secure and ripped it all away…I’ve known Steve for a while…and being here, in this time…it’s been hard for him.  Even with Bucky…there’s a lot of things he never addressed.  He was always sort of glossing over it, hoping that he’d find a broad and everything would be okay…but then you rejected him when you saw him for who he could be…the scared man without anyone or anything to call his own."

I stared at him, unable to argue.

"He was right, kid," he sighed, "as much as you may want to act like he didn't. He hurt you. Probably more than Barnes did. Because at least Barnes was up front with you...you know until he drugged you.  You saw that he could be a monster, and you never wanted to believe that Steve could have any bearing in that department, but he does…all of us are monsters, kid."

My jaw clenched as I looked at the floor.

"I'm still gonna wait for him to wake up."

"Okay, fine," he shrugged, "What do I know? What do I care? I just told Banner I'd try to get you out for a while, so you'd finally eat something."

"I'm fine."

He rolled his eyes at me and left the room. I continued to stare down at my hands as I listened to the rhythmic beeping of his heart monitor. As a million thoughts raced through my head I let go of a yawn. It had been a while since I actually slept.

Pulling out my phone I found myself going to the gallery. I felt a pang in my heart when I saw the photos of Steve and I. Sure, it was probably a lie...part of his whole ruse, but in those moments I felt happy. I felt safe.

I scrolled through them, thinking about how we acted in the moments each picture was taken. His skin glowing so much so that I only noticed the freckles that dotted his cheeks and across the bridge of his nose after I was staring into his eyes, only inches from his face.

I'd hoped he would kiss me then.

How his beautiful blues were like an ocean. I could see the different shades within his eyes when I was in his arms. I wanted to stare into them all night. The lightest of it reminding me of crashing waves, while a darkness existed that I thought I wanted to see. To dive right into.

"How long has she been here?"

"Since you've been out," Dr. Banner's voice told him, "she hasn't left your side...it's been almost three days."

"Really?"

"Steve, I don't want you reading too much into this," Banner said nervously, "Mira is just here because she's a good person and didn't want you to be alone."

"No," he said quickly, "my bunny came back to me...maybe she doesn't hate me."

Letting my eyes drift open I saw that Steve was trying to reach out to me, but Bruce was holding him back, "Cap."

"Steve."

Bruce and Steve stared at me as I wiped the sleep from my eyes and sat up straight in the chair. Rolling my shoulders, I tried to get rid of the kink in my back.

"Mira, he's awake."

"I see that," I yawned, "why didn't you wake me up when you realized it."

"It's only been a few minutes," Steve replied quickly, "Bruce came in when I tried to get up."

"Why would you try to get up?" I asked, suddenly feeling overprotective of him, "you almost died, Steve…we barely pumped your stomach in time."

"I-I wanted to be closer to you."

"The therapist said you aren't supposed to touch her," Bruce growled at him, "remember that, Steve?"

"I just wanted to be closer," he said nervously, "I wasn't going to do anything."

I looked at the grown man in the bed beside me. He looked so trapped. So unequivocally broken. Now refusing to meet my eyes, he was biting at his bottom lip and looking at his hands.

"Steve," I sighed. He didn't look up at me. Getting out of my chair I went up and grabbed his hands, "Steve...look at me."

He met my gaze. His cheeks looked hollow, and his skin was so pale I could see the faint freckles that dotted his cheeks when we first met brightly. His hair and beard were untrimmed and tangled.

This was not the same Steve Rogers I'd first met.

"I want to die," he admitted, tears filling his eyes as he made his admission to me, "I don't want to live like this...I've become a monster."

I felt tears pricking at the corners of my own eyes.

Surely, he couldn't mean that.

"Don't say that."

He pulled his hands from my own and cupped my face, "I hurt you so much and you don't even see it. I lied to you...I-I broke your trust and I hurt you so bad…I'm not a good guy, Mira."

I closed my eyes to try and stop the tears from falling down my face, but it didn't work.

"And now I'm making you cry," he muttered sadly. He swiped away the tears from my cheeks, and sighed, "I can't do anything right with you, can I?"

"Steve," I pleaded. His cool blue eyes met mine. Even they weren't the same. A joyous, bouncing happiness that once existed had faded and his eyes just reminded me of a marble. Beautiful colors preserved in time. But the lights were out, and no one was home. I put my hands over top of his, "I need you to stop."

"Stop?" he asked.

"Stop drinking," I pleaded, feeling my heart sinking in my chest, "stop trying to hurt yourself."

"Why?"

"Because I need you," I admitted finally, staring him dead in the eye. I felt my breathing get heavier as I admitted it aloud, "You can't leave me because I need you, Steve."

"What?"

"I want to hate you, but I can't," I sighed, dropping his hands, "after everything you've done...you made me feel like I was safe...you made me feel like I could trust you. Then you disappeared. You came back to the city and let Bucky drug me. You let him take us. And then it felt like you couldn't protect me. I latched onto you and I-I don't know. I gave up. I tried so hard to feel those feelings again. I wanted you to make me feel safe. To make me feel loved. I didn't know it then, but I cared about you...all because of that night when you came up to check on me. The only other people that have ever cared about me were Kenzie and Jade. My own family doesn't care if I'm alive or dead...but you did."

I couldn't say anymore. My chest hurt and I felt a tinge go all the way up my throat as I cried. All the tears I tried to hold back burst through the floodgates and I wasn't able to stop it. The pain of admitting it all too much I got up to leave. But a slight pressure gave, and I felt tension on my hand. Looking back, I saw that it was Steve. He had me by the wrist.

"Please don't leave me...I can't stand the idea of losing you bunny..." 

Chapter 19

Tag List:  @krissy25, @lohnes16, @multifandom-world8

[wh6res]

UP IN SMOKES — DOYOUNG

psych student! kdy | tw. college au, violence, a knife, GASLIGHTING, hallucination, psychosis, swearing, just pure manipulation, minor charac death, there's a court scene, this is a repost! | wc. 10k she a beast

life could’ve been simple;

you shouldn't have met kim doyoung.

what does a freshman in college hate the most other than the high-stress levels of moving into a new dorm? a shitty roomie and a smelly, moldy mattress. the girl you call roommate refuses to help move the mattress because it will ruin her new manicure. what a fucking classic. 

"sounds like a 'you' problem. figure it out yourself, plain jane." 

she said before heading out, annoyingly popping her bubblegum as she kicks a few of your scattered boxes by the front door. you roll your eyes; classes haven't even started yet, so why is she already making your life miserable? as much as you'd like to snap at her, you don't, merely glaring daggers at her back as she finally turns the corner of the hallway and disappears. 

"bitch," you mutter under your breath. 

you eye the abomination that is supposed to be your bed, cursing how you shouldn't have made a 15-minute pit stop to starbucks for a drink when you could've just bought one from the instant coffee vending machines in every corner of the hallway of this dorm building because if you didn't, maybe you could've beaten regina george wannabe from taking the better bed. sighing, you suck it up and start getting to work. life's full of shit, anyway; no point sulking.

moving a moldy mattress is easier than you thought, to say the least. you can't ask for help from the other freshmen you bumped into in the hallway because they, too, are under a huge amount of stress from the move and are busy getting their affairs in order. it was a good thing, though, that a committee was formed specifically for this day to help out the freshmen if they were to stumble upon problems or mishaps with moving in. they were all around the campus, and they prove to be way friendlier than your batch mates. since this morning, three people have already offered help in carrying your luggage — which you have politely declined.

"hey, uhm… is this the stall for the welcoming committee? oh, wait. i'm sorry, there's a sign right there —"ugh.

you mentally shut your eyes in humiliation. why do you have to be this bad, this awkward at communicating with strangers? why couldn't you be born like all those socialites who already (probably) got their contacts filled with new numbers on the first day of school or something?

"yeah, this is them — welcoming committee, i mean. how can i help you?" he smiles, sweet, radiating the epitome boy next door aura as he looks up at you from where he's sitting behind the stall. your eyes quickly land onto the name tag stuck on his varsity jacket before meeting his eyes again. 

"i have an issue with my mattress. it has mold, you see..." your voice slowly trails, becoming quieter as you feel small under the weight of his piercing stare. oh, come on. he's just a guy with a beautiful face, woman the fuck up.

"really? let me see..."

he needn't finish rounding the stall when his nose is hit by the pungent smell brought forth by your mattress. frankly, you weren't that picky. you could've covered it with bedsheets and call it a day, but the odor is too strong to ignore. you mentally hope the smell didn't latch onto your clothes, especially not when someone so cute is around — what a bad first impression.

"oh, god!" he exclaims the moment he lays eyes on it, taking a step back. “now, that has to go. and you lugged it from the fourth floor?" 

ah, yes. according to tradition in these dormitories, which you've only found out today, freshmen get the curse of climbing four flights of stairs up while the seniors strut into their rooms on the ground floor like the hallway is a goddamned runway. 

"doyoung! help me carry these!"

someone calls his name as you both turn your head to spot a chestnut-haired girl clad in the same varsity jacket he's wearing. you grimace at the sight of her. for someone so small, she just had to volunteer to carry all those heavy bags. however, he doesn't move in front of you and brushes her off as if she doesn't look like she's carrying rocks over her shoulders. "i'm already helping someone else! go find taeyong or something. i'm sure that shit's loitering around here somewhere!"

"oh, it's okay, you can go help her. i'll just look for someone else —"

"nah, it's fine!" you try hard to school your face into indifference when you notice his gummy smile. "plus… trust me when i say no other person from the committee will help you with this. this shit smells like my roommate's sweaty basketball socks!"

you can't help the smile forming on your face as you help him carry the mattress off to the side of the hallway, the stinky thing leaning vertically against the wall and behind a huge terracotta plant pot. "don't worry, let's report it to student affairs so they'll get you a new one. congrats! you'll have to share beds with your new roommate tonight, freshie. it'd be a great ice breaker."

the universe truly hates you.

your expression must've been a dead give away because he's suddenly patting your shoulder, regarding you with utmost sympathy. "been there, done that. i hated taeyong, too, when i met him last year. still, for some mind fuck of a miracle, we've grown to be friends and developed a talent of not wanting to kill each other every two seconds."

"highly doubt i'd be friends with a regina george-level bitch, but thanks, anyway," you mutter under your breath. suddenly, you whip your head towards him after internalizing what he just said. "you met your roommate last year? you're a sophomore?"

he scoffs, leaning down to your height to lowly mutter against your ear as he eyes the lobby's front desk. "why? do i look like some 4th year who radiates 'don't touch me' energy?" 

you feel the heat on your cheeks with how close he is, only releasing an exhale when he finally gets out of your personal space. "i'm kim doyoung. you've heard it from wendy earlier, but anyway — i'm a 2nd-year psych major."

"no way!" you exclaim, a little too excited. "i'm taking psych, too!"

"oh, you are? well, if you need anything or if you don't understand stuff…" he winks. "feel free to approach me anytime."

hmm… how sweet of him. 

it was only hours later that you found out who kim doyoung is in your department during the acquaintance party. and for god's sake, you found out from your best friend who is a major in english lit and has never even seen the guy. "seriously, you didn't know he's a genius? i hear the professors call him a prodigy, girl! a fucking prodigy. if i were you, i'd ask for his help in every subject."

"you know i prefer keeping to myself. how'd i know stuff like that when i have no one to talk to in the psych dorms?" you look down, making the ice cubes in your drink clink against each other. "i didn't think he was this big shot or whatever. he looks normal, and everyone treats him normally."

"well, what do you expect?" she hisses, hitting your arm. "the other students don't want to make him feel alienated or something just because he's tons smarter than them. but anyway… the real question is…"

you roll your eyes when she pauses for effect, tentatively leaning closer to whisper under her breath. 

"is he cute?"

you didn't want to answer her question, but he's been stuck in your head since he offered walking with you to the student affairs office. doyoung had smiled his cute gummy smile and had even ruffled your hair before leaving you for committee duties — saying he's cute would be an understatement. 

"you have no idea."

for his first act;

he gains your trust.

fast forward to one year, many things have changed, but the only constant remaining is the handsome sophomore — who is now a 3rd-year, by the way — whom you've met on your first day. coursework has been pretty tough this year. instead of the content written in your textbook, your mind is plagued by the horrible twist of fate your best friend had encountered; she didn't have enemies. or so you thought.

she disappeared in the middle of christmas break last year. her beaten up body was found only a month later, in january, floating around the university's lake. happy fucking new year. 

the first time she chose to spend the holidays with you instead of her family back in her hometown, and that happens? some rotten luck you both have. it's why you didn't put it past her family to hate your guts with strong convictions. it's okay. the feeling's mutual. after all, it had been your best friends' own family, the same ones who had been so willing to take you in when you got kicked out, that were so eager to pin you as the murderer of their child. all under the argument that you have been the last person seen with her. 

oh, the things her mom said about you when she had stormed into the police station, red in the face, tears streaming down her cheeks..."i warned my baby not to hang out with that — that bitch. came straight out of a cursed family, that one. abusive dad, a nutjob mom. that bitch is a danger! probably got her dad's nasty temper and beat my baby to death! i want her on the electric chair!"

in those times, you once again realize this world is fucked up and cruel in every bit of its glory as you fought tooth and nail to defend yourself. but even then, they never believed you — the law will only favor the rich . the prosecution had been so sure it was you until a certain witness appeared and presented himself before the jury.

"do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?" 

doyoung raises his right hand, fixing his stare straight at the judge. "i solemnly and sincerely declare that the evidence i shall give will be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth."

"how long have you known the defendant?" the prosecutor asks, arms crossed in front of her chest as she paces in front of the witness stand.

the boy briefly meets your gaze, and it's enough to make his heart sink. doyoung can't bear seeing you in those grey overalls when he knows it himself. you're being accused of a crime you didn't commit. "i've known her for one year."

"how'd you meet?"

and the questions went on and on; your defense attorney isn't all too keen on winning the case and had never once yelled "objection!" in her seat, but what could you expect? all the evidence kept stacking against you, and some of those you knew were even fabricated. you've never felt this hopeless in your whole twenty years of living. 

"what's the point in this, anyway?" doyoung snapped in the witness stand, fiercely glaring at the prosecutor. "how is my history — or lack thereof — with the defendant any relevant to the case? you're not even asking me about evidence nor what my statement is!"

"easy there," the prosecutor retaliates, jaw locked. "i have to first measure what exactly your relationship is with the defendant for us to think twice about your statement. who knows..." the prosecutor makes a grand gesture of turning her head in your direction, affixing you with a condescending stare. "she might've just hired you to say these things."

your attorney doesn't come to your aid.

"perjury isn't my thing." 

the prosecutor seems to have taken offense by the tone of doyoung's voice, but he doesn't let her speak further. "the victim isn't all sunshine and rainbows, you know. she'd been a part of a sorority and one with quite a nasty reputation in the college, too. i have to say she made very poor decisions, ones i'm sure her family didn't even know about. you see, they take their oaths and pledges very seriously. the victim wanted out. they didn't like that."

"and you have evidence to support this claim?"

without a moment to waste, he digs around the front pocket of his jeans before proudly presenting a black usb between his slender fingers. "knock yourself out."

the professor calls your name, snapping you out of your reverie. this isn't the first time your mind had transported you back to that particular day in the courtroom, where doyoung had swooped in and saved you from a lifetime in prison. the whole ordeal had been so scary, so frightening that you remember everything vividly as if it had only happened yesterday.

the classroom is empty. even your social psych professor has long packed up his stuff and is already standing by the classroom door. damn. were you that out of it?

"i'm so sorry." you mutter under your breath monotonously as you walk past him and out the door without another word. this is bad, very bad. no one would help, much less lend their notes to someone charged with murder — especially of their very own best friend. whether you were innocent or not doesn't matter to the student body. you've been ostracized, gossips of your problematic family spreading like wildfire, and the ridiculous part is only a fourth of the gossips are true.

the damage is done. 

at this point, you realize with a heavy heart that you have to face doyoung again sooner or later. you haven't talked to him at all since the start of the new school year, ignoring his lighthearted greetings in the hallways, rejecting his calls, ghosting his texts. you are afraid people would judge him harshly for hanging around you. frankly, you were embarrassed to ask any more favors from him with how much he's done for you already and the fact that he had seen you in such a state of vulnerability.

but you also didn't want to fail your subjects and lose the one thing holding your life together — your scholarship.

that is why you found yourself standing before him, in his favorite spot in the library tucked behind shelves upon shelves of books, next to the windows overlooking the empty football field. he's wearing black-rimmed glasses and is clad in the usual navy blue sweater as his head turns to and fro between a textbook and his notebook. the air had been so silent, you hear the aggressive scratches his pencil makes against the paper.

you feel a little hurt when he makes no move to acknowledge your presence, but you think back to what you have been doing and figured he has a right to act this way. 

"hey, doyoung." your voice is meek, hesitant.

"if you're not here to explain nor give me an acceptable reason why you've been ignoring me for the last few months, then please get out of my sight. i'm busy, as you can tell." he is brutally honest, knocking down the remaining hope you have left of ever reconciling with him.

something within you snaps, the steady streams of tears running down your cheeks as you pinned your stare on doyoung's open pencil case lying on the table. you have nobody left. your family — father, specifically speaking — has disowned you for taking a course your heart wanted, and the one friend you have lies motionless in a white coffin buried six feet under the ground. you didn't want to lose doyoung, too, no matter what role he plays in your life.

"i'm sorry," your voice cracks. "life's been… fucking shitty, and i'm sure you of all people know what i've been through. i've thanked you before for — for what you did, and i'm thanking you again right now but — i'm sorry, i'm really —"

your voice cracks when you feel him pulling you into an embrace. you feel the tension in your body breaking loose as you crumble in his arms. all those months grieving and wallowing in self-pity took such a heavy toll that you can't help but tightly clutch the sides of his hoodie, scared he'll slip through your fingers.

one of his hands comes up to push your face against the crook of his neck, muffling your cries in the silent library. doyoung felt like a jerk for snapping at you the way he did. how inconsiderate can he be? however, he felt elated because you sought him out yourself and wanted his help of all people.

his eyebrow raises in amusement. 

well, not that you have a choice, anyway.

it took you a few good minutes to calm down, cringing when you see the wet patch on doyoung's sweater because of your tears. 

"why don't you tell me everything, hmm? i'll help you as much as i can."

you sheepishly look down, fiddling with your fingers as you sit across him, the open textbook and notebook before him long forgotten. "well, i've been so out of it lately? my mind's just a whole bloody mess and i can't focus on any of my subjects at all and if i can't, then i'll lose the scholarship and it's the only thing i have in my life right now —"

"hey," doyoung cuts you off, placing a warm hand against your forearm to calm you down. "you won't lose that scholarship. trust me, okay? why don't we arrange tutoring sessions and i'll even lend you some of my notes from last year. what do you think?"

"okay... thank you, doyoung."

"for the record, you have me in your life, too. i'll always be here for you."

in the first session, you woke up from your deep slumber with only 15 minutes to spare from the scheduled time, but thankfully, your tutor only lives one floor down with the rest of the 3rd-years. bringing nothing with you but a pen and a pad of paper, your textbooks were destroyed as some students from your batch thought it'd be fun to throw them into the lake to "honor" your friend. 

you offer a small smile when taeyong opens the door, sporting an oversized shirt and track pants, eyes wide in shock when he sees you. "hi? can i help you?"

"hello! i'm here for doyoung. he's tutoring —"

"he doesn't live here anymore. his mom bought him a place outside the campus."

what?

"i'm sorry for disturbing you, then. do you by any chance know where he lives?"

that's weird. doyoung never mentioned he's already moved out. you feel a wee bit irritated that he forgot to tell you; it would've saved you the embarrassment of interacting with the varsity player. you weren't stupid, you can see the hints of repulsion in taeyong's eyes the moment he opened that door and saw you standing before him, no doubt thinking about: oh, look, it's the crazy murderer with a fucked up family standing in front of me.

he had shut the door in your face. you stood awkwardly for a good minute in the hallway until the door reopens, taeyong handing you a small piece of paper with doyoung's new address scribbled hurriedly in black ink. he doesn't give you a chance to thank him for he's already closed the door again without another word. 

you opted walking to his place instead of catching a ride because the money you have on you is enough to buy yourself dinner. to say the least, the apartment building is mediocre, not too grand, nor is it too rundown. double-checking the floor level written on the paper before pushing the elevator's button, you then realize doyoung lives on the very top floor of the building.

the hallways are painted a boring brown. some acrylic number signs plastered on the doors are broken, hanging vertically with one screw left. it says on the paper he resides in room 720. taking the right hallway, you mentally count as you eye the mahogany doors. 718… 719… there it is!

when you raise a fist to start knocking on his door, there is a tinge of hesitation surging through you. perhaps being alone with a boy in his apartment is not the best setting for a girl like you should end up in, but this is doyoung we're talking about. if he had ill intentions for you, it would've manifested a long time ago. you shake your head, feeling bad for thinking of him that way as you slowly knock on his front door. not long after, it swings open, revealing the 3rd-year in a white shirt and boxers as he lazily dries his hair off with a small towel. 

"you're late," is the first thing he says to you before spinning on his heel to disappear further into his humble abode. 

"you didn't exactly inform me you've moved out of the dorms. so, whose fault is it?" you retaliate, inviting yourself in and closing the front door shut.

"whatever. let's get started!" he plops himself on the floor, coffee table filled with loose papers as he struggles to find a specific one amongst the mess. "i've already scanned, exported to pdf, and emailed you my notes. it should be in your inbox by now. anyway, answer this quiz i made so i know what i'll be working on."

"you didn't really have to send your notes, doyoung. i could've just read everything from the textbook," you sit down across from him because otherwise, you'll be too distracted to remember information. 

a thought crosses his mind. with what textbook?

"i just think it's missing some essence. that's why i love reading over other psych books in the library for fun. be grateful, those notes are like my babies and i don't simply give them to anyone," he looks at you pointedly. "they've all been summarized and explained in layman's terms so you wouldn't have to spend grueling hours of reading and trying to make sense of the big words as i did — i know that's not the definition of 'fun' normally, but it is for me, and that's why i do it."

"okay, doyoung. you sound so defensive when there's nothing to be defensive about," you tease, feeling pleased with the hint of red on his cheeks as he averts his gaze from yours, muttering incoherent words under his breath.

you spent the following tuesdays, thursdays, and sundays like that; hours upon hours with no one but your tutor, laptops with tangled chargers, a printed copy of his babies, and a mountain pile of loose papers filled with the specialized quizzes doyoung makes to measure your progress. the location varies from a cafe or his flat. but in what you've gathered from the time you spent with him, doyoung's a homebody. cafe tutor sessions are rare, and he always complained about how "noisy" the atmosphere was — "i can't stand it."

but the conversation hadn't always been about academics. 

sure, for the first few sessions, doyoung kept an image of professionalism and had heavily insisted on it — "it's for your learning experience!" — despite your lighthearted teasing. but as time passed and he eventually grew more comfortable in your presence, you find the strict 15-minute break he had initially imposed between 45 minutes of studying turned into hours of talking about whatever; how he likes his eggs in the morning, your favorite coffee brew, his favorite show, your strongest pet peeve. 

and you wholly welcomed the change, not minding that it's practically dark out whenever you go back to your miserable dorm. you feel butterflies in your stomach whenever doyoung offers to walk you home but never had you taken his offer, still cautious of other people seeing you both together despite his constant reassurances. you've already thoroughly ruined your image. you didn't want to ruin his, too. 

kdy the cute tutor, 2:14 pm —last day of midterms! & its all majors today  —good luck —remember what i taught u —lets get ice cream after u cant say no

you shake your head bemusedly. his texting style is the most doyoung thing he does and it's as if you can hear him say these things to you in real life. too caught up in your own world, you fail to detect another student sitting next to you and had nearly fallen off your chair in shock when they spoke.

"why are your notes like that?"

you fight the urge to glare at the person, especially when you turn your head and see lee jeno looking at you in genuine curiosity. he's the only batchmate that treats you a wee bit nicer among the rest. although he isn't technically your friend, at least he doesn't look at you like you're a piece of bubblegum stuck under his shoe like all the others.

"what do you mean?"

"they're… the definitions are all jumbled up. where did you even get that?" 

what? jumbled up? doyoung himself said these notes are a combination of most of the psychology books he had read last year concerning his subjects. how would it be jumbled up? then again, lee jeno was not tutored by the prodigy himself. maybe things are bound to seem "jumbled up" when information is too great to understand for a feeble mind. 

just as you were about to claim these notes aren't yours, the professor has already waltzed into the classroom with a thick wad of papers — the exams. after one last concerned glance directed your way, jeno averts his gaze with a confused tilt of the head. 

hours later, you walk out of the classroom with the biggest smile on your face. aced it, you thought. your hands feel numb with how much you wrote on the essay portion but it's worth it if it meant you get the full 25 points, which you no doubt will as it was a topic you surely tackled with doyoung. speaking of... he sure is a man of his word.

"what are you doing here?" you hiss, head ducked with hair framing your face as to not draw attention from the rest of the students filing out of the testing hall.

"i texted you that we're getting ice cream. remember?"

"i did. but i didn't remember agreeing."

he shoots you a comforting smile, planting his hands firmly on your shoulder. “i told you, y/n. i don't care if they all see us together, so what? we all know you didn't commit that crime and it wasn't your fault you were born into the family you had. i don't care about the trivial things, baby, so don't shy away from me, okay?"

how the fuck can you say 'no' when he's looking at you the way he is as he brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear? doyoung's just so bewitching that he has you wrapped around his slender fingers. he seems pleased when you stumbled over your words as you come up with a reply, caught off guard by his bold gestures.

"i just — you, uhh — fine..." you gave in, rolling your eyes out of pretense.

he just had to call you 'baby' and erupt the butterflies in your stomach.

it had been doing that for the last few months now and it had only truly manifested today when he took you out for ice cream to celebrate the end of hell week. and since you didn't want to go back to your dorm yet, you asked if you guys can watch some movies in his house but it had simply become background noise to your heart-to-heart talks. and what better accompaniment than the classic, chicken and beer?

you listen to him drone on and on about the little realizations he had on some of his past lectures even when you barely understood anything he's saying. doyoung's so lucky to be extremely good at something he's so passionate about, talks about the human mind and the complexity of a person's behavior will never fail to make his eyes light up in interest.

he calls out your name.

your eyes snap open.

"why don't we get you home? it's past 10 and it's alright, stupid, you don't need to pretend to be interested in my psychological findings." he chuckled light-heartedly, stealing the can of the now room-temperature beer from your hands before you can protest. 

"i wasn't dozing off, i swear."

"i caught you in the act. stop lying."

like all the other times he has you as his guest, doyoung once again offers to walk you home and you decline for the thousandth time. it really isn't that much of a long walk anyway. you don't see the need for him to go out of his way to secure your safety. plus, you were the one who insisted on hanging out in his house anyway. you weren't that thick-skinned to let him take you home, too.

"you're drunk!" he scolds.

“no, i’m not. i can perfectly handle myself."

"but —"

"bye!" 

you feel a little guilty for shutting the door in his face. still, a minute longer of his persistence and you would've taken his offer. unfortunately for doyoung, you are one stubborn girl. only if you don't make brisk movements with your head, then you won't see doubles. you'll be fine, it's just a quick walk and it's not as if you're stupid enough to pass by deserted alleys. 

but you had underestimated the divine prowess of your fucked up fate.

everything happened in a matter of three seconds; one, the blinding headlights illuminate your path from behind; two, you hear the loud honk, and as you turn around — three, the vehicle sends you rolling against the asphalt.

you should have taken the alleyways.

for his second act;

he alters your reality.

when you open your eyes, you thought you were dead and your spirit is wandering elsewhere — because you don't believe in trivial things like heaven and god — until an agitated doyoung comes into view. for a split second, you thought, is he dead, too?

"i'm not dead, you idiot." too dazed, you hardly register his anger. "i can perfectly handle myself, she said. i'm not drunk, she said. this wouldn't have happened if you had simply let me walk you home! you're damn fucking lucky you're alive and breathing right now!"

a person clears their throat.

"i don't think it wise to… nag at the patient the moment she wakes. don't you agree, sir?"

pink splotches on doyoung's cheek as he looks down, embarrassed at getting scolded as he stands closer to your bed. "i'm sorry, doc."

you didn't know when your vision cleared or when you started hearing normally again, but it was enough to find out what exactly had transpired on the very night of your tragic accident. a hit and run. fifty-fifty chance of surviving. doyoung getting a call from the hospital in the middle of the night —"they were trying to contact your dad, but he wasn't answering. i was the last person in your call history." 

six months in a coma. but today, you wake… only to find out your world has crashed and burned.

"what do you mean i lost my scholarship?"

"baby, listen to me —"

"why did they take it away? is it because of my accident? i'm behind by one term only and i swear i can catch up. they need to let me back in the program. there must've been some mistake —"

"your gpa didn't reach the cut-off grade."

that can't be possible.

"but you tutored me!" you claim with conviction, pointing an accusatory finger at him until you groan, bowing in pain as you clutch your head.

doyoung springs into action. the chair's legs screech against the tiles as he jumps to your aid, ushering you gently back against the hospital bed despite your refusal. "you're not well. lay back down, please."

you don't hear a single word he says, not when you had lost something so crucial. "i put in the effort and learned everything you taught me... i aced those fucking mid-terms! i know i did!" you were on the brink of tearing up as doyoung settled himself in front of you.

"i… i actually saw your papers," his lips set in a thin, hard-line. "everything was all wrong, sweetheart. what happened to you? i tried reasoning with the professors, mentioned your state — you know, with your best friend dying — but they didn't relent. i'm sorry y/n. i'm so —"

gone. everything is gone. the money. the dorm. what if they ask you to pay the fees from last year? what if they ask you to pay the tuition fee for this year? you have no money, no family, no relatives. no one to help. who's even going to pay for the hospital fees?

you weren't able to process anything after that. not with the sudden news of your now revoked scholarship. doyoung pulls you in a tight hug. "i was a bad tutor," he says, snapping you out of it. "maybe i shouldn't have pushed you that hard to learn them. why were your answers even mixed up y/n? i thought you knew those topics already…"

he pulls away, observing your confused state as your eyes dart everywhere in the room. "what — how are they mixed up? i know i got them right. there has to be some mistake. you taught me those topics, remember?"

"i did... "he averts his gaze. "but i don't remember teaching them to you mixed up, darling. i think you did that all on your own."

"but… why would i mix up my answers? that's —"

"see, what i mean?" he cuts you off, raising a hand to give your cheek the most delicate caress. "you're not well, baby. you need to be treated, especially with how much you hit your head during the accident. don't worry, i'm here. we'll try asking if you can stay in the dorms at least until you find another place —"

"am i a charity case to you?"

oh, the surprise on the junior's face when you push him away as you pin him with a hard stare. you just don't get it. why is kim doyoung so adamant about helping you? in becoming your hero, even when you never asked him to be? if you let him help you this time around, that'll be the 3rd time he came to save your ass. it's not as if you're ungrateful. simply, you've had enough of his help. you don't know how a person like you, who literally has nothing, can return the favor to someone like doyoung.

"what are you saying —"

"i'm saying…" you fix him a hard stare. "you helping me out doesn't even benefit you in the slightest. so why do you do it?"

he pauses, staring at you with hesitance in his eyes as this seems to be the very first time you've truly seen him speechless. when doyoung opens his mouth, he mumbles, and you hardly make sense of what he said. 

"do you really want to know why?" 

you urge him on with an arched eyebrow, his softened tone creeping into your heart. 

"you're someone special to me y/n. i don't know how or when i admitted it to myself, but you are, and it hurts me to see how shitty your luck is," he cracks a small grin, slowly settling back onto the hospital bed as he grabs your hand. "it's okay to seek help from others. it isn't a sign of vulnerability or weakness. i help you because i want to, and i'm more than willing to take care of you. will you let me?"

you're not blind. you've noticed the way he had slowly started coming closer as he continued to speak, hands held securely in his as he looked straight at your eyes then down at your lips. and so, you act in a way you know that will surely answer his question — with a kiss. 

the man before you immediately reciprocates, overpowering your own eagerness as he curls the tips of his fingers into the roots of your hair. he pulls you close, cradling you against his chest. you can taste his desperation in the way his tongue dances against yours, the kiss transporting you into an alternate reality where your world revolves around doyoung and doyoung alone. 

when he pulls away bleary-eyed, both of you ignore the thin strand of saliva connecting your lips. "how about you come live with me for the time being, my love?"

still high off his kiss and natural scent, you hardly mull over the question he asks you. "okay."

days later, after you've been discharged (he wanted to chip in for your hospital bills but you had given him a firm no), doyoung had been the one to show up at the dorm to collect all your things after leaving you in his apartment. the cutie had refused to simply drop you off and had deliberately accompanied you up the elevator, through the halls, and finally into his apartment. 

"i'll be out for just a minute, sugarcube."

"oh, can you get take out?"

doyoung had smiled, playfully booping the tip of your nose. "no, because i'll be cooking for us tonight as a little celebration for you getting discharged. you'll love it; i'm making your favorite!"

it was funny how the night had been nothing but utter bliss. the foreign feeling of being taken care of sprouting in your chest as you watch him cooking from behind the counter. it felt… nice. but funny enough, as if doing a 360, you both had immediately gotten into an argument the next day. 

"i don't see the need for skipping another day if i feel perfectly fine! i'll figure something out once we get there, doyoung, so can we just —"

"you' re not fine, babylove — hell, you got discharged yesterday! i'm not just about to let you back into the arena with those students. they've only grown more immature since your coma, love. i seriously don't want you near them."

"fine! then i won't talk to them. simple." you throw your hands up. "there. problem solved. now, can we please just go to uni? i need to talk to the dean and the head of student affairs, too —"

"i'm going to uni, not you."

maybe it had been the way he firmly stated his claim, the way his eyes pierced through your soul as if daring you to argue further with him that made you snap.

"i'm not a prisoner in this apartment, doyoung! don't treat me like i have the plague! i'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself — jesus christ, i've been doing it nearly half my fucking life!"

too caught up in your anger, you've failed to notice the tears pouring down his face as he sets his gaze on the floor. 

"you're right," his voice cracks. "i shouldn't be pushy like that. i'm sorry. you just mean so much to me and i'm so scared of losing you again. with your coma — i just — it's like i was fighting a losing battle each day that passed when i saw you in that hospital bed. i've never felt so scared in my whole life and i hated myself for not being able to protect you that night."

his tears run like waterfalls, and when you step forward with your arms wide open, doyoung sobs harder as he pulls you against him. you hardly comprehend what he says as he spoke, shaking against your frail body as you felt his tears stain your blouse. "i'm sorry, i never should've dictated what you felt — i'm so sorry."

"no, it's okay. i was feeling a little lightheaded, anyway. i'll stay here and i can come back to school next semester, right? doyoung? just… please stop crying."

he lifts his head, staring at you with bloodshot eyes before giving your forehead a kiss. you let a relieved sigh escape your lips, melting into his warmth as you prop your chin on his shoulder. if you had only been more attentive, you would've seen the reflection of his wicked grin on the tabletops. too easy.

living with him became a blur after that incident. everything fell into a routine for the next four days as you spent the day watching netflix, eating, reading, sleeping. nothing felt fun anymore. but your peaceful life had ceased during the fifth night — the whispers, they woke you up. you can hear them from behind your door at night, and when you rouse awake, you see doyoung walking around the hallway from the tiny gap at the bottom of the door. you had sighed, falling back into your plush bed as you pray to god, he keeps it down. 

but what he told you the next day rendered you speechless. "me, walking around the hallways? whispers?" he says, confused. "i was already asleep, love. knocked out cold the moment my body fell on the bed."

"but…"

he doesn't spare you a glance as he takes his sweet time skimming through his notes on the dining table, coffee in one hand. "maybe it's just the meds kicking in."

"no, surely it was real! i literally woke up in the middle of the night," you repeat. "it's okay if it was you, doyoung. i'm not mad."

he sets his coffee mug down a little too loud. 

"well, you can't be mad at me, sugar, because like i said — it wasn't me," it doesn't take a genius to notice he's awfully cranky today. you observe him, dark half-moons under his eyes as he relentlessly reads his notes with instant coffee in one hand. 

"you're just imagining things, okay? stop acting crazy."

for some reason, the way he had uttered certain words like 'imagining' and 'crazy' made you curl into your seat in embarrassment. he was right that your doctor did prescribe a generous amount of pills per day, but his tone made it feel off, made you feel like there was something wrong with you even when there wasn't… 

right?

you didn't say a word after that and had hesitantly pecked him on the cheek before he left for school. with the amount of time you're with him, two things stood out to you — his keen sense of observation and his knack for reading people. you highly doubt he didn't notice a shift in your behavior but a part of you thinks it's just the stress talking. he is about to take his finals and had recently started on his research paper. 

every psych student is required to present a paper in accordance with the department's annual theme. it could be anything from proposing a theory (if you dare) to constructing a well-developed psychology model. if you don't turn one in, you don't graduate — the paper's that important, and you've been bugging him for so long about sneaking a peek on what his study is about. but he always refused. 

the next week came rolling around, and both of you had been spending every day together due to the semestral break. the arguments have significantly lessened, but your episodes — eventually, you started calling it that way because that's how doyoung labels it — have only gotten worse. you end up moving out of the guest room and into his. privacy be damned. the whispers stopped momentarily but what came next became your imminent downfall.

the first time you heard it, you thought you were dreaming. but the doorknob kept rattling aggressively even as you sat up. just as you climb off the bed, your half-asleep boyfriend asks where you're going. 

"bathroom," you lied.

you were always the one to snort when it comes to the supernatural, claiming it's all bullshit. yet, as whatever outside continues to fight its way inside the room, the rattling progressing into loud bangs against the door, you're not so sure of your beliefs anymore. you're not crazy. nothing is wrong with you, and you're perfectly fine. this apartment is cursed, and you are going to prove that to doyoung.

grabbing your phone from the bedside table, you turn the flash on, pointing the camera at the door as you take a footage of the mad entity that has been playing games with you. a squeal escapes your lips when a particular bang! reverberates louder in the room than all the others. the phone slips your hand, falling onto the floorboards. you don't bother to retrieve it as you scramble to get yourself back under the blanket and into doyoung's comfortable warmth.

you snuggle yourself plush against his chest, shaking as you wrap your arms around his waist, inhaling his natural scent to anchor you back. 

bang! bang! bang!

you didn't get a wink of sleep last night.

"can't the video wait? there's a new episode of start-up, and i want to watch it already!" he whines, shoving his face further on the throw pillow situated on your lap.

you giggle, shaking your head as you scroll through your gallery to find the video. i'm not imagining things. i'm not hallucinating. i'm not crazy. "here! watch... i'm telling you this apartment is haunted, and the ghost probably likes you, which is why it doesn't bother you —"

your lighthearted rambling cuts off when you notice no sound emitting from your phone. weird. you could've sworn you started recording right when the loud banging has already started. your heart drops upon the wary stare doyoung shoots you before he continues to watch the video. 

no, no, no, no — please!

you quickly scoot over to his side, watching as the video unfolds before your very eyes. the shot was messy as the phone was handheld, not to mention you were panicking at the time. but the video is silent. not a single noise of a rattling doorknob or banging on the door can be heard through your phone's speakers. 

"maybe — maybe you didn't turn the volume up?"

you hardly contain the mortification in your face when you realize the volume's at 100 already. and as if on cue, your squeal is heard in the video and the noise of the phone hitting the floor.

doyoung's silence shakes your whole being. as you kneel before him teary-eyed, your voice breaks. "i swear, i'm not crazy."

but at this point, you don't believe yourself anymore.

for his third and final act;

he triumphs.

his deprivation began in minuscule ripples. 

it didn't take much effort on doyoung's end to convince you to stop studying for a year or two, at least, only until your hallucinations aren't as severe anymore. everyday felt like hell on earth as the fine line between what's real and what isn't has blurred over one too many times. in sheer paranoia of accidentally hurting him in his sleep, you moved out of his bedroom and had started sleeping in the guest room again — much to doyoung's frustration. 

but he's a smart man, one that recognizes an opportunity amidst the hurdles thrown on his path.

"why does my door need a lock outside again?"

he approaches you, who’s sitting cross-legged on the bed, after screwing in the last of the screws that came with the new doorknob. doyoung is familiar with the look written on your face, has observed and studied you enough to navigate his way inside your pretty little head with ease.

he can't have you doubting him, can he?

"you know i'm all about protecting you, right?" he starts. you nodded. "i've been doing it for a year now, and i will continue to do so until you need me to. the world is a bad place, sweetheart, remember? your own best friend's mother tried framing you. your dad disowned you. you've been ostracized in the whole college... do you think i'm just like the rest of them, baby?"

doyoung has already mastered the perfect expression of a kicked-puppy, one that easily pulls at your heartstrings and has you cooing at him.

"no!" you say with conviction, reaching forward to thread your fingers through his. "i know you're different, not like any of them at all. i know you're only doing what's… best for me."

he ignores the underlying hesitance in your tone. that will be corrected, sooner or later.

doyoung tightens his hold as he kisses the back of your hand. such an innocent gesture — but such ill intentions.

"the outside lock helps me in protecting you, love. you don't need to worry about anything. just focus on getting better, alright? i'll keep the bad guys away from you."

it was during his first semester of senior year, a few months back, doyoung and a good few students of his batch had been granted the opportunity to intern for a mental hospital located near the edge of the city. he was supposed to decline the offer but you convinced him to take the spot. it had only been a two-week “job” yet it was enough for doyoung to conclude — he’d rather kill you than subject you to the horrors of what the patients have to go through in the loony bin. 

eventually, the small ripples shift into unforgiving waves, dragging you into the depths as everything comes crashing down before your very own eyes.

it should have been like any other day inside the apartment. doyoung's already gone in the morning to attend classes. though not before setting a tray of your brunch on the nightstand, making sure to lock your door on his way out. he knew your nightmares and anxiety kept you up at night, resulting in longer hours of sleep during the day. 

turns out, you moving out of his bedroom had been a blessing in disguise. coming home to an empty apartment has become his biggest fear yet, and you unconsciously found a solution for him. one that doesn’t have him fidgeting on his seat as he counts down the minutes ‘til he’s back by your side.

doyoung smiles unconsciously as he listens to his professor drone on and on in front of him — his mind at peace, knowing you're safe and sound in your little prison.

until he received a text that made his blood run cold.

ty, 11:34 am —im done.

meanwhile, you rouse awake once more to thunderous poundings against your bedroom door. oh no, you thought. it's happening again. this time, there'll be no doyoung barging into your room, half-asleep and hair messy, as he tries to calm you down. you throw the blankets over you as you sob, hugging your legs against your chest as you try to 'wake yourself up' from the hallucination.

the person outside calls for your name, the desperation in their tone alighting a new-found fear in your heart. you don't know what's real anymore. is this truly happening, or is it another hallucination your fucked up mind has conjured up?

"please! it's taeyong! y/n, can you hear me?"

taeyong?

slowly, your head peaks above the blanket, warily staring at the door. doyoung has warned you about these kinds of things, has practically ingrained in your mind that whoever comes looking for you will take you away from him. not to mention, doyoung slipped one time and said he isn’t friends with taeyong anymore.

the banging on the door progresses.

“are you in there? answer me! i can’t find the key!”

you don’t say anything, merely pushing the covers off your body as you keep your eyes fixed on the beating door. it looks like it’s about to pop out its hinges as taeyong relentlessly fights his way inside your room. what are you going to do? do you open the door? oh. right. you can’t do that on your own accord. the key is with doyoung and he isn’t in the apartment at the moment.

all your thoughts come to a halt when the boy outside sends the door flying open, finally breaking the lock with one powerful kick. you flinch back, his actions pushing you on your feet, wanting to place a maximum amount of distance from the intruder. 

taeyong looks frantic, disheveled as he immediately notices your alarmed state. he approaches you cautiously, hands up to show his empty palms. “hey, hey… it’s just me, y/n. i’m not going to hurt you. i’m not the enemy here.”

“doyoung doesn’t know you’re here, does he?”

the look of surprise on his face is an answer in itself. for someone doyoung had proudly claimed to have “broken” you’re still quite quick to catch up on things, taeyong observed. and he doesn’t know what to feel about it — pity? guilt?

“that’s not important!” he claims, boldly surging forward to grasp your shoulders with a firm grip. taeyong felt his heart dropping when you flinch under his grasp. 

“listen to me. we need to get you out of here. doyoung isn’t — he isn’t everything you thought he is!” he can’t help but raise his voice, panic surging through him because there’s not much time left and you aren’t exactly cooperating. you’ve been trying to shrug off his hold the whole time. 

“do you think he actually loves you?”

“he does! stop saying bullshit!”

“doyoung never loved anyone and you want to know why? because he’s too in love with his research to care for anything else!” taeyong felt bad to have been so direct, especially when he sees the tears now falling freely down your cheeks. “listen to me, y/n! i’m not the enemy! if there’s anyone you should be pushing away, it’s doyoung! he turned you into his lab rat! you are nothing but a variable in his study! don’t you get it?”

taeyong grabs a firm but gentle hold of your head, trying to make you look at him straight in the eye for the gravity of what he’s about to say to you.

“doyoung had his eye on you since sophomore year. i told him this was a bad idea and that he should change the topic of the research and he was. fucking hell, he was about to scrap the whole thing until your bestfriend died and did you know what that psycho told me? that it was a sign for him to continue the research! and i’ve been pestering him so much that he moved out because he claimed i was going to get in the way of his discovery.

tell you what, if you can tell me right here, right now, that he has mentioned anything — anything at all — about his study to you then everything i’m saying is a lie.”

you have asked doyoung for the longest time about that research but the answers have always been the same. “not yet, my love. it’s not time for it to be seen with your eyes. soon, okay?”

with a voice not louder than a whisper, you ask. “what… what’s his research about?”

you fail to see the sorry look on taeyong’s face. “in psychology, they say a person only develops psychosis mainly through genetics or drugs. although you’re technically already a worthy “lab rat” considering your mom and upbringing, he wanted to expand the external factors of what causes the disorder — grief, grades, toxic family relations…”

you hear a ringing in your ear and a sudden urge to throw up. only, you didn’t have anything to hurl because your brunch remains untouched on your bedside. 

“but he hadn’t been successful. and that’s… that’s where i came along. doyoung thought the medications he’s been giving you isn’t doing what he wanted it to and he knew he needed a little push. i was… i gave him that push. remember the whispers, the banging on the door at night? it was all me. he made me do it. you know what that means, right? you’re not crazy. you don’t need to stay here cooped up like some kind of pet, believing all his lies as if it’s written in a fucking bible —”

he stops. and if he hadn’t, you wouldn’t’ve heard the familiar beeps of the front door’s automated lock going off. doyoung’s home. 

in lightning speed, taeyong has you sheltered behind him, throwing his warm coat over you in the process, hoping to give the smallest comfort amidst the chaos that’s about to erupt. there’s no point in pretending or hiding — one look at that lock and his crazy friend would know something’s off. 

taeyong feels you flinching behind him with every heavy footstep against the floorboards as doyoung wastes no time in getting to your room. and when he finally appears, hands braced against the door frame, you’ve never been this scared your whole life. his eyes are drawn into slits, fixated on taeyong alone. “how fucking dare you?”

“it’s over, doyoung. give it up or you wouldn’t have to suffer a longer sentence than you’ll already get.” taeyong tried with his whole being to appear intimidating.

“what’re you saying, yong? i meant, how fucking dare you barge in here and disturb my girlfriend in her sleep? that’s not very nice of you…” doyoung sports a disarming gummy smile as he approaches, hand outstretched and beckoning towards you. “c’mere, baby. i don’t think you’ve eaten lunch yet?”

“drop the fucking act, you psycho!”

“what act?” doyoung tilts his head innocently, gaze shifting from taeyong’s and yours, who keeps peeking from over his ex-friend’s shoulder. luring you out is a piece of cake unless taeyong decides to make things a wee bit more complicated, doyoung thought. “i’m just concerned for my darl —”

“we’re leaving.” taeyong cuts him off, breaking eye contact as he places a firm grip around your wrist. he pulls you towards him, farther away from your supposed lover as he tries walking past doyoung. 

but the said man pushes taeyong back with a humorless smile on his face. “and who told you that you can do that?”

a pregnant silence befalls the room as the two men size each other up. they regard each other with such hostility, you can't help but unconsciously fist the back of taeyong's sweater in nervousness, prompting the man to turn his head over his shoulder for a swift second to check up on you.

but a second is all that doyoung needed to deliver the first kick towards taeyong's legs, throwing him off his balance. if it was one thing doyoung knew, is that he needed to eliminate taeyong's agility all together if he wants to win against him. 

but taeyong isn't one to back down. the moment doyoung straddles him on the floor, with a fist raised to throw a punch, taeyong grunts as he rolls them around. doyoung now receiving taeyong's rain of fists as he yells. "fuck you! you manipulative asshole!"

you sat on the corner, horrified of the scene happening before you. you've never seen doyoung this way. he has always been your sweet, caring bunny, but after everything taeyong said, you aren't so sure you even know the man you've been living with. 

"everything i did, i did it for her!" you flinch at the sound of bones breaking as doyoung kicked taeyong's ribs. "she had nothing to lose! i saved her!"

the door is open, you noticed. wide-open and inviting you to make a run for it. and you would have made a run for it...  but taeyong. you can't leave him behind, not when he lays there bloody and grunting in pain as doyoung lets his anger take over him. so, as stupid as may be, you did it. you had to.

"you didn't save me," you say, schooling your face into indifference as doyoung whips around, forgetting about taeyong in the bat of an eye. "you caged me in here, treated me like there's something wrong with me, gaslighted me into believing everything you said! and... what did you say? 'saved me'? you made me go through hell!"

the whole time, taeyong tries his hardest to stand upright, but his broken ribs don't allow him to. the pain too great that he had no choice but to crawl instead, arms pulling his weight as he drags himself across the floorboards, desperately trying to get doyoung's attention back on him even if it meant getting beaten to death.

meanwhile, he had his eyes trained on you the whole time you spoke, sobbing as you walk backward in fear as doyoung approached you with a dark glint in his eye. he doesn't like what you're saying; that much is very clear. he wanted to yell at you, to scream of your ungratefulness despite his constant care but instead, he says.

"i thought we were making progress, baby. i guess i have to drill everything in your brain again. you're not okay, but you will be after i treat you."

you try to fight the urge to look at taeyong as he finds his strength, silently rising up from the floor to ambush doyoung while he's so busy preaching about you. 

"what i said is true, baby. do you actually think this scum over here is doing this to save you? do you actually believe everything he said? i've been here since day-1, my love. literally. and have i ever let you down? no. everything i'm doing is for us. even this damned research!"

taeyong surges forward to put him in a chokehold, but everything happened so fast, and the next thing you knew —

"did you actually think i'd fall for that?"

you didn't know the sound of a knife cutting through flesh could sound that loud, but nothing could beat the strained gasp that tumbled through taeyong's lips as he shakily held the knife pierced through his heart. you would've been concerned about how doyoung got it so accurate in one go or where the knife even came from. but you were too busy screaming, collapsing against the wall as you let out a broken sob. 

"no," you mutter. "no, no, no..."

you can't bear to avert your eyes from taeyong as he lies dying before you. the look of fear in his eyes would forever be ingrained in your mind, and no amount of brainwashing or gaslighting would ever make you forget.

doyoung killed him. you lost.

the knife clatters loudly on the floor as he slowly turns around as if he himself has yet to register what he did. you didn't know what to expect from doyoung's reaction but certainly not the eerie smile that starts spreading on his face. 

"now... how about that lunch, baby?"

✉ : a repost no one asked but i respectfully dont give a fuck <3

[tartt9]

"Y'go off-script?" he asks, looking over at him. Jamie had seen plenty of Arlo's movies [ in fact, he thinks he's seen them all, though his memory for people's filmography has never been great - he couldn't even tell you if he'd seen all of Anne Hathaway's films, and he fucking loves Anne Hathaway ] and it's always seemed so impressive to him, the way Arlo could memorise lines, could take this character that someone else had created and make him his own. Jamie could never be an actor; he has a great memory for things he hears [ it's why he's so good at memorising plays, at mimicking the things people tell him ] but an awful memory for things he reads. He'd have to have someone read him all of his lines just to remember them, and that'd be a waste of time for everyone involved. Plus, he can't do an accent to save his life. "People've tried to teach me to shut up and deal with it, but... I ain't much of a listener when people're tellin' me to do things I don't wanna do." He doesn't elaborate on that, doesn't think further on it; his father had always wanted silence from him, and he'd gotten it - Jamie's tight jaw, eyes directed at James' face, taking what he was given from him and using it to fuel him on the pitch.

Sucking at his teeth, Jamie nods when Arlo pockets his phone. "Cheers, man," he mutters. Out of sight, out of mind - he nods. And now, he can't feel it if it vibrates, can ignore it far more easily. He makes a mental sort of apology to any of his teammates or coaches who might be trying to reach him right now [ team emergencies are far more likely to happen than one would think, but that's what happens when you have 25-odd teammates with different needs. The times Jamie has woken up in the middle of the night to go kill a spider for Jan Maas is more than he can count ]. Luckily, there are some 25-odd other Greyhounds that can help if an emergency is to arise. He wants to spend this time with Arlo, not worrying about anything else.

"If y'think this is freakin' the fuck out," he tries to mimic Arlo's accent [ poorly ], "y'should've seen me last week. I were a fuckin' disaster, man. Weren't even usin' conditioner anymore, 'cause I couldn't see the point." Jamie shakes his head, fingers still fidgeting with a blade of grass. "I mean, it's all comin' down to this, ain't it? We beat West Ham, City loses or draws against Liverpool... that's it. We win the whole fucking thing." Sure, Jamie had been on teams that had won the whole fucking thing before [ City in both 17-18 and 18-19 ], but sitting on the bench and winning the whole fucking thing is an entirely different feeling than being a starter and winning the whole fucking thing, and Jamie desperately wants to win. Wants to prove Richmond is ushering in a new era of English football dominance [ even if they lose, they'll make the Champions League, he knows, which is sweet. But it'd be sweeter if they won the whole fucking thing first ].

Jamie turns his hand over when Arlo rests his hand on top of Jamie's own, pressing palm to palm. He's always been a touchy, affectionate person, so sue him - he wants to hold Arlo's hand. "Y'wouldn't wanna play FIFA against me," he says, voice fond. "I'd kick your sorry ass, and then you'd feel bad. I wouldn't even need to use Roy Kent to do it, neither." Perhaps it's strange to admit that you still play as your hero-turned-teammate-turned-coach in FIFA, but he doesn't get the opportunity to do so against others often [ the Greyhounds have rules for their FIFA tournaments, after all, and rule number one is no playing as us. Us includes Roy, even though he's technically not a player anymore - he's still in their dressing room. Us ]. "I'm ready for Sunday. I have somethin' to prove, and I wanna prove it. Guess all I can really do is believe that we've got it in us, and that Liverpool'll pull off a miracle."

arlo shrugs, as if to say,   tomato  tohmato ,  eh   ?   ❝ correction: they pay me to memorize me lines like a good little arlo, ❞   he chuckles,   ❝ but more often 'n not, i go off script, improvising n' shit. some directors haaate tha'. get real pissed off with me, they do. ❞   he's getting off topic,   BUT  HE  SWEARS   he has a point.   ❝ anyways, ain't nothin' wrong with bein', y'know, ❞   he makes a few vague gestures with his hands,   ❝ talkative. some things need t' be said. if y' were taught t' just shut up n', you know, deal, i wager you'd be a RIGHT FUCKIN' PUSHOVER . ❞   there he is. excessive filler words aside, he thinks   ( hopes ? )   he's gotten his point across. jamie leans back , 'saw that', he says, and arlo can't help but outwardly cringing. he's got thick skin, developed a  real  backbone growing up in the industry, but it never stops fucking sucking, knowing his friends see all the nonsense they spout off about him in the papers and on social media. makes him feel like he's   grown  a  second  head   , like he doesn't   EVEN  KNOW  HIMSELF   for certain. jamie pulls out his phone, inching it closer still towards arlo, asking him to take it. arlo obliges, pocketing the damned thing as quickly as jamie had taken it out.    ❝ out of sight, out of mind, yea? ❞ he chuckles.  he listens as the footballer explains his plight, absentmindedly picking at the grass. the actor stifles a laugh, JAMIE'S BODY LANGUAGE and perpetual fidgeting so easy to read, at least to him, at least now that they're friends   ( he hopes )   .    ❝ well…m' gonna be honest, 'ave no idea what you're so worked up over, so it does sound a bit like fucking nonsense to me, if i'm bein' real with youse, ❞   he barks out a short laugh, though not unkindly. ❝ but i think i get what you're tryin' t' tell me. i guess all i can say is like…acceptance is one a' the stages of grief, right? in this example, grief is just a…metaphor for y' freakin' the fuck out , t' be clear, ❞   he laughs again, teasing just the slightest.   ❝ so you know that there's nothin' you can do…and that y' can handle any of the possible consequences of your actions…so basically all that's left is you gettin' the hell over it: acceptance, ❞   arlo smiles, turning so that his body is facing jamie's. he places a hand on top of the younger's,   squeezing  ever  -  so  -  slightly   .  ❝ you're gonna be fine. and if you're not fine? i'm here. y' have my number, just text me an' i'll bring your sorry ass snacks n' we can play fifa 'till y' feel better. ❞   because lord knows   he's  god  -  awful   at real sports.

[ashtraysystem]

The System Watches

Split

🐀: okay so obviously we've heard a lot about this movie but we wanted to watch it as a system.

💫: with being switchy comes the advantage of commenting on movies and tv shows!

🐀: we've got drinks-

📓: and a poptart..

💫: and those here in the headspace right now are Brooks💫, Sylas🥽, Elliot📓, Finley🦈, Maxi🎧, and Rat🐀!

🐀: Can we start the movie now??

...

🐀: seems relatively normal so far??

📓: ooh speaking to the camera!!

🥽: I dont get the appeal of alcohol

📓: why is he suddenly bald? Are we seeing through his eyes or theirs??

🐀: Bro I think they are different guys?

💫: tea is better than alcohol

🐀📓: SHHH

💠: what is going on in here?

🐀: movie, hush.

💠: ah, okay my apologies. *sits down to watch*

🐀: so are they all evil alters or?

...

🐀: his yells of pain is literally dubbed over wtf?? like his mouth is open but the sound is clearly a mouth closed sound lmao

...

🐀: does this bitch cassie have past kidnapping trauma??

🦈: insensitive much?

🐀: its my job 😜

...

🐀: is this his therapist?? who is she??

🥽: a switch definitely happened..

🐀: ah she is his therapist!!

🥽: ocd..

🥽: the system tried to get help, at least.

🥽: feminine alter, an introject maybe?

🐀: yeesh therapist lady has a lot of patients

🦈: ooh points for calling it DID and not MPD!! :D

...

🥽: Alters noticed so far; 4. Initial alter, Artist, Feminine, and OCD alter.

📓: >Movie timestamp: 22:46

🦈: fem alter is patricia! nice. :3

...

🐀: therapist sleeps with her files??? thats,, thats a little weird tbh. work-life balance lady, leave your work stuff... not in your bed. at least.

...

💫: oh, the child! hello hedwig!!!

🥽: 5 alters.

🐀: hgdhdj "i just ate a hotdog" i love this kid

🥽: "i stole the light from mr dennis", that sounds similar to our system's way of fronting where we have a sort of "light" where we stand to front. Honestly it sounds like these people really did their research!

🐀: damn I was expecting this to be a hate watch..

🐀: wait yo shit shes fucking gaslighting a kid!! wtf man!!! like sure youre in a life or deatch situation but its not cool to make a kid alter cry like that. not cool. accurate, but not cool.

...

Entire system: Chlorine???

🦈: a pool maybe??

🐀: *jumps* oh JEEZ bro

🥽: ocd alter is a protector..

🦈: ooh cute bra!

🎧: FINLEY

🦈: what, cant appreciate a cute bra??

🦈: oh shit shes really locked up now yeesh

...

🥽: okay this explanation of DID is a bit.. exaggerated.

🦈: .. therapist lady we are traumatized, not some sort of miracle supernatural being. we are TRAUMATIZED. yeesh.

🥽: Patricia, Hedwig, Barry, Dennis, and now added by the therapist we have Orwell, Jade, Samuel and Heinrich.

🐀: oof 23? thats gotta be fun

🥽: and she just said Kevin's body, but its assumed Barry is the host.

🥽: Dennis has OCD, so then the one I was labeling as OCD is likely just a germaphobe to an extreme extent.

🐀: wait both Dennis and Patricia are banned from fronting? Dennis bc obvious reason, but why Patty?

🥽: is Dennis germaphobe alter and just really good at blending? they seem like two different alters..

...

📓: they,, they check the cameras?? theres cameras to check??? I,, I don't like that,,

🐀: eh dont worry dude-

📓: More worried

🐀: yeesh aight.

...

💠: oh a new alter? I like this one, they seem nice :>

...

💠: ooh fun animal science facts!!

🐀: oof major ocd in this guy..

🎧: 😬 shouldnt have hit him girl

...

🐀: fin can you not be gay for like two seconds please?

🦈: 😔 sorry

...

🥽: the beast..? hm..

...

🐀: did,, did her uncle do something to her?

💫: oh hello again hedwig!!

🥽: dennis has ocd and germaphobia..

...

Movie: "Can I kiss you?"

Entire system: GGSJSHFHAHAHA

🐀: why's the 9 yo tryna kiss her!!

🎧: bro thats so ridiculous hAH

🐀: this kid man this kid hdhsjdk

🐀: GSHJDJSK OMFG SHSHDJ

🐀: okay to give you a quick rundown of what happened on screen, he held his mouth open against hers, his eyes fluttered shut, he pulled away and said "you might be pregnant now". IF THAT ISN'T THE MOST 9 YO THING TO FUCKIN DO HSHDJSKDK

🎧: his constant use of etcetera xD

...

🐀: oh shit he was sexually assaulted as a teacher by some teenagers and that ruined his career,,, shit dude that suuucks.

🐀: dood okay this,, this sucks. this is. really real now. like. some of the shit therapist lady is going over with him makes sense. history of childhood abuse, likely sexual in nature, and being triggered by the teens forcing him to engage in a sexual act without his consent triggering up previously dormant alters, like yeesh dude i'm sorry so much bad has happened to ya. we protectors have it hard sometimes.

...

🥽: ..she can make the dormant host front by saying his full name? Curious...

...

Movie: *talking about dormant host* "He's very weak"

🦈🎧: ......

🐀: um, guys you okay? Do you two need a minute?

🦈: We're just. Just thinking about Cecils. It's been a while, ya know? They're weak too. And its been so long that they can't fully front anymore for any longer than 10 minutes without getting overwhelmed and exhausted.

🎧: Even Ash is getting that way too,,

🦈: I just wish it was easier to help them both. Like, I cohost and everything but I don't get that same feeling of being utterly drained like they do. They just have to carry that with no known reason why.

🐀: ...

🦈: sorry, I'm done. Back to the movie.

...

📓: Kevin's dad is the beast, that makes sense.

🥽: There's likely an introject alter hiding back there.

📓: Patricia and Dennis haven't met the beast.

🥽: but supposedly the others have, which means only those two were formed after his father left.

...

🍄: aw he has pet mice!! :D

📓: ... his "window" is a drawing...

🐀: thats kinda fuckin sad.

…

🦈: no..

🐀: fuck man. Shit. He really fucking did that to her.

👹: Humans are disgusting, vile beings.

💫: I'm so sorry Casey, I'm so sorry that you had to go through all this you sweet child. :(

🐀: god this is depressing.

🎀: I think thats just the alcohol you drank Rat! *eatting popcorn on Rat's lap*

🐀: 😭 thanks pom, you sweet little monster.

💫: 😭 Pompom you precious thing,,

🎀: yay sad time hugs!! :D

...

🥽: this therapist is really going above and beyond.

...

🐀: EATTING IMPURE YOUNG??? WHAT NOW

👹: mm tasty *thinking of chicken eggs*

🐀: ONI NO WRONG YOUNG

👹: ... oh :(

...

🥽: the switching between patricia and dennis is interesting.

...

👹: Don't like this "beast" character..

...

🐀: why didnt therapist lady say kevins name to bring him out?

🐀: oh shit how did his skin break the goddamn knife???? it looked like a nice knife too???

...

🐀: ayye barry's hat nice!!

...

🎧: OH NO,, ((their guts,,))

...

🐀: I'm sorry hE JUST BENT THE LOCK???

🐀: okay girl you have his name now dont be a dumbass say it immediately like you mean it

🎧: oh god, saying his full name triggers a ptsd attack,, I mean I guess good for those who need it to stop him from literally unaliving them, but yeesh bro I feel I feel. :/

🦈: their whole system is in total disarray right now,, half of them don't know how long they've been dormant or whats going on,, I feel so bad for them,,

...

🎧: good thing she knows how to use a shotgun.

🐀: i wanna see a flashback of her uncle again to see if he ever got what he deserved for messing with Casey tbh.

...

🐀: NO. FUCK. DAMMIT. HER DAD FUCKING DIED LEAVING HER WITH THE UNCLE. how many times?? How many times do you think he did it to her?? And she didn't have anyone to protect or help her anymore.

🐀: This movie is more sad than anything else. Sad and frustrating. Frustrating to watch this system become such a mess, sad to see what this poor girl has gone through only to be dealing with this shit. God I hate this movie. but in a bad hate way.

...

🥽: So he's preaching about how those without trauma are impure because they havent been torn apart by the world. I wonder if she'll mention her abuse to him, bc then she'd no longer be "impure" by his definition.

🦈: ,,she has scars from abuse, and he's seen them,,

🥽: this will likely affect the entire way she sees herself now. Her trauma has been the thing to save her and give her mercy and life at this moment.

🐀: she'll need hella therapy, but yeah. Maybe she'll see herself as worth more now. At least I hope.

...

🐀: THEY WERE UNDER A ZOO THE WHOLE TIME??????

...

🐀: oh no fuckin way shes going back to her uncle after this i hope she tells on him and goes with one of the families that lost their kids in this smh

...

🐀: okay so i know this is technically part of a series of movies so theres a bit at the end that I didn't get that I think I was supposed to have gotten.

...

🐀: it was okay. I can see why its decently rated, but also why it's hated. Theres definitely a lot of stigmatizing about DID in this, but truth told to me it seems like they actually did their research on DID. I get that its more interesting to tell a story about the DID person who goes batshit crazy with evil alters rather than the fairly boring and sad story of how it actually is.

🥽📓: We want to look more into DID represented in media (such as movies and tv shows) so if anyone has any suggestions let us know!

[nakachuchu]

Love is in the Air or Not | Kuroo Tetsuro + Yaku Morisuke

SYNOPSIS: Harry Potter AU - Two boys are pining for you.

READER: female

WORDS: 2093

WRITTEN: 03/17/2021

NOTES: I rewrote this a lot of times and I read it so many times that I started hating it, so I'm not sure if anyone will actually enjoy it but I spent too much time on it.

You were one of the rare girls who didn't give into Kuroo. He was known at Hogwarts for being a player and being absolutely wicked at sex. It was why girls always crawled to him—but not you.

He wanted to know why it was so easy for you to resist his charms. He thought he was quite attractive, and for you to not agree was an insult.

Kuroo approached you while you were talking to a friend. You slowly turned around and looked up at the tall man as your friend shuffled away.

He grinned at you. "Go out with me."

You laughed with a smile as you reached up to fix his tie. "You're crazy."

The corner of his mouth twitched. "Is that a no?"

"It's a big no."

"Why not? I'm a catch," he said.

"Because it's obvious you just want to fuck me," you retorted.

"Aren't you even a bit curious?" he asked.

"No, but I am hungry," you said as you walked away from him to grab a muffin.

You didn't care for relationships or boys, so Kuroo was a no-go for you. You cared more about your friends and getting good grades.

The next day, Kuroo approached you once more in the common room. It was times like this where you wished you were sorted into a different House.

"Go out with me?" Kuroo asked with a flower bouquet in his hand.

The flowers looked as if he pulled them out of the dirt from the courtyard, and you wouldn't be surprised if he did.

You shook your head. "I'm not taking these."

Kuroo's arm swung back to his side. "Why not? Girls like flowers."

You fought back the urge to snatch those flowers and smack him on the head with it. "Not all girls like flowers and not all of them want to have sex with you," you retorted.

You left the common room without taking the flowers. Yaku walked in the room with a muffin in his hand and a book wedged in his armpit.

"Feels bad, doesn't it?" Yaku asked.

Kuroo's eye twitched. "Mouthy already, huh?"

"You tell me."

"Smartass," Kuroo commented with a snort.

"I don't know. Why don't you ask my ass? Here, it's been really calm today."

Yaku turned around and stuck his butt out. Kuroo rolled his eyes and shoved his back before smacking him with the flowers. Yaku turned back and whacked him in the face with his book.

"Dick," Kuroo muttered.

"Asshole," Yaku retorted. "Did you ever stop to think that maybe Y/N doesn't like you?"

"Every girl likes me. They just want to be fucked."

Yaku rolled his eyes. "I'm going to the library. You're annoying the fuck out of me."

"Please do, midget."

Yaku ignored him and walked toward the library with his school bag. He didn't expect to see you there, standing by a bookcase though. He approached you hesitantly and you smiled faintly once you saw him.

"Hey, Yaku," you greeted.

"Hey, Y/N. How's your day so far?" he asked.

"Kuroo hasn't stopped bothering me. It's a miracle he's not here right now. You didn't shrink him and hide him in your robes, did you?"

Yaku smiled as he stuck his hand in his robes and patted his body.

"I don't think he's in there, but if he is, then I probably squished him by then."

You chuckled. "With that ego of his, there's no way we'll be able to shrink him."

He snorted. "You can say that again. I could power a whole town with that ego."

"Try the whole world," you retorted.

The two of you paused before bursting out in laughter. Students nearby curiously looked at you and the librarian shushed you. The two of you zipped your mouths and did your best to not laugh.

You never failed to make him laugh. It was why he liked spending time with you.

The two of you met in your first year and it wasn't difficult to become friends with him. He was a bit shy at first, but eventually came out of his shell when you started smiling and telling jokes to him during class.

"What are you studying for?" you asked.

"Charms," he answered. "You?"

"Potions."

Yaku nodded. "My best subject is Potions."

"And my best subject is Charms," you replied.

"Wanna be study partners?" he asked as he nervously scratched the back of his neck.

"It would be an honor."

The librarian shushed you again.

The two of you looked at each other before forcing down your laughter.

You enjoyed spending time with Yaku. He was humble, smart, and had a wicked sense of humor.

"Y/N, another Outstanding for you!" the professor said as he passed back your test.

You smiled gratefully. Charms always came naturally to you.

"Kuroo, Poor. Was this lesson too difficult for you? You usually do so well."

"Ah, well, I've been a bit under the weather. Maybe Y/N could tutor me since she's so smart," said Kuroo lazily.

"That sounds wonderful!" the professor exclaimed.

You froze and dropped the book you were holding onto the desk. "Please repeat that, Professor. I'm afraid my hearing is a bit wonky these days."

"You should tutor Kuroo!" he repeated. "Lunch is about to start, so everyone may leave. Y/N, I expect you to help Kuroo raise his grades."

You and Kuroo left the room, side-by-side.

"There's no way you purposely failed that test to get me to tutor you, did you?" you asked.

"Who knows?" he questioned with a smirk.

Truth was, he did fail on purpose to get time with you. But it wasn't because he had a crush on you.

He didn't do crushes. It was difficult for him to get attached to someone because no one was worth his time.

"Your technique is all wrong," you critiqued. "Why do you move your arm around like a dead worm?"

After class, you immediately dragged him to a corner of the library to coach him.

Kuroo rolled his eyes. "You're meaner than you look," he said. "Everyone thinks you're this saint, but you're really not."

You raised an eyebrow. "I think I'm pretty nice."

"If you're nice, then go out with me," he countered.

"I'm not that nice."

"Are you sure? I'm pretty cute," he said.

"That's a good joke," you retorted.

He rolled his eyes. "Okay, but I actually do have a good joke. Why did the ketchup blush?"

"I don't know. I don't like ketchup."

"He saw the salad dressing."

You blinked. "That's...horrible. Are you a dad? You're making dad jokes!"

"Hey, they're good! Look, look, I have another one, okay? What's the difference between a G-spot and a golf ball? A man will actually search for a golf ball."

You snorted. "Okay, that's actually—" You started laughing. "That's actually pretty funny."

Kuroo never noticed how cute your laugh and snort was. He liked it when you loosened up around him, so he continued to tell bad jokes.

"Stop making me laugh!" you scolded. "I'm supposed to be tutoring you!"

Kuroo laughed in return. "Think of this as a break!"

"We've had a ten-minute break with me laughing and you telling jokes!"

Other students in the library were starting to get annoyed with the two. At first, they were intrigued by you spending time with Kuroo, but they started to get annoyed with how loud you were.

"There's nothing wrong with that," Kuroo responded.

"Maybe. Unless you're actually failing Charms."

"I'm not. I'm actually smart, you know."

You hummed. "No, I don't think I know."

"Will you go out with me?" he asked again.

It was so sudden, that you didn't know what to say. And when you looked at how serious he was, you nearly agreed.

But you had never dated someone before, and Kuroo was known for being a player.

"No," you said softly. "But for good reason. Maybe you should ask out someone else? Like you said, you're a catch."

He nodded. His mouth felt a bit dry and there was a bad taste in his mouth. He felt a bit uncomfortable but understood what you meant.

The two of you met in your first year, but you only knew him through Yaku. Their families knew each other, so they grew up together.

You and Kuroo weren't close to each other, but if you were around Yaku, Kuroo would normally appear to tease him.

Along the way, he got intrigued by how you never gave him the time of day.

The Winter Ball was coming up. Students were asking each other out left and a right. Everywhere you turned, a student would be asking another student to attend the ball with them.

"Are you going to ask anyone to the ball, Yaku?" you asked as you sat down next to him in the library.

He suddenly seemed frigid. "No!" he exclaimed.

"Shh!" the librarian angrily shushed.

"You seem very eager about that. It's all right. You don't have to tell me anything."

He fidgeted with the ends of his robes. "Y/N, do you want to go to the ball with me?"

Yaku liked you. It wasn't hard to tell, and while you could picture a relationship with him, you weren't ready for one.

You froze, the book in your hand balancing on the spine. "I wasn't planning on going to the dance. I don't like loud, crowded places," you explained. "Sorry. It's definitely not you. Um—let's just study, okay?"

He felt dejected, but it was better than you rejecting him for another person. He nodded and opened his book.

Kuroo looked up from the couch in the common room once he heard the door open. You casually walked in, waving to others with a book wedged into your armpit.

He got up from the couch and walked over to you. You paused as he stood in front of you with his signature smirk.

"Do you want to go to the Winter Ball with me?" he asked.

"Yaku didn't put you up to this, right?" you asked.

"No. Did he do something?"

"He asked me to the dance, like, an hour ago. I'm going to tell you what I told him. I'm not planning on going," you said. "Dances aren't my thing. I'll just be in the common room."

You turned around and headed up to your dorm.

Dances weren't Kuroo's scene, either, but he asked because he wanted to get to know you better. But, he didn't mind the idea of spending time with you alone while the others were at a dance.

Kuroo left the common room to find Yaku to get some answers. Because Kuroo wasn't stupid—regardless of how people thought—he knew Yaku would be in the library.

"Do you like Y/N?" Kuroo asked as he approached him.

Yaku nodded, looking up from his seated position. "Yeah, I do. Do you?"

Kuroo scoffed. "I don't know. She's pretty cool though."

"Who knows? Maybe she'll actually end up liking you—when pigs fly," Yaku added.

Kuroo scoffed. "She'd definitely pick me."

The boys stared each other down silently.

On the day of the dance, you were left alone in the common room. The fire was going and you had a book on your lap.

It was quiet and peaceful, and you liked it. Until two bumbling idiots ran down the stairs while arguing with each other.

You looked up from your book. "Really, boys? You couldn't have gone to the dance like the others?"

"Well, the girl we asked didn't want to go," Kuroo retorted as he jumped over the couch and sat next to you.

Yaku quietly sat on your other side. You closed your book and placed it on the table in front of you.

"Fair point," you said as you waved your wand to turn on the radio.

You leaned your head back and closed your eyes.

"What are you doing?" Yaku asked.

"Taking a nap. We're not going anywhere," you retorted.

The two boys looked at each other as you drifted off to sleep. You didn't mind their company as long as neither of them bothered you—mainly Kuroo.

"She'll never date you," Yaku said.

"How do you know that? I'm a catch. I bet she'll date me."

"I doubt that. I have a better chance than you," Yaku retorted.

Kuroo rolled his eyes. "A midget like you would never win."

The two began to quietly bicker with each other. They were rivals, after all, and this was only the beginning.