#why didn't i do this more since earlier???

[fic-dumpster]

Deer in Headlights | Panic arrives at the office

Summary: Working as Sanzu’s secretary for a day wasn't so bad; he was rarely in his office, so you had to handle most of his paperwork and appointments. Where was he? Who knows…

Pairing: Bonten x F!Reader

Word count: 2.4k+

Content Warnings: Plot development, feelings with sprinkles of angst (eww), reverse harem, fluff, brief mention of violence and death. This is part of a series! Just adding that for new readers.

A.N: Finally freeing one of the old wips which I rewrote like five times because i couldn’t remember what I was doing. Anyway! Enjoy more of this never-ending series of unfortunate events surrounding Doe and her harem. K bye 💋

You asked Mikey if you could stay at their workplace longer since being at home was becoming duller and duller. He agreed, but as always when it comes to anything involving you, nothing happens in this household without a fight.

At first, Takeomi objected and would only allow this ridiculous idea if you were his assistant, then Kakucho added that he also needed help. But then backtracked. He remembered his position as an enforcer and didn’t want you to see him like… that— so yeah, discarded.

Meanwhile, Kokonoi laughed in their faces. mentioning how he was the one who spent more time sitting down on his desk— buried in paperwork— and that's why you should be with him. The safest option, according to him.

Surprisingly, the infamous Bonten trio had been quiet the whole time. Ran, Rindou, and Sanzu seemed very uninterested in acquiring you for help. Such a reaction from your pack of hyperactive golden retrievers left you puzzled.

Your incertitude didn’t last long. Later you found out that they didn't want you with them due to the nature of their jobs too, just like Kakucho earlier. The more gruesome parts of Bonten always fell on their shoulders as well.

Not soon after you heard Kokonoi explain their unusual silence, he also added a few extra details. Such details gave you the final push to decide who gets a new helping hand.

Kokonoi gave the longest speech you’ve ever heard him say about Sanzu. The silver-haired individual went on and on about Sanzu never submitting reports on damage, expenses, casualties, and a whole bunch of other desk work.

Sanzu argued that it was utterly ridiculous and unnecessary since everything would be destroyed by the next day. Still, you watched them ping-pong about such… matters for a while.

That's the main reason why you decided to choose Sanzu. And that's what you are doing right now. Sitting outside the door to the pinknette’s office in a new desk that Kokonoi insisted on arranging for you, even added a new desktop setup and all.

The whole morning was pretty calm. Kakucho came by and left some sweets for you, then Ran and Rindou took you out for lunch, and Mikey passed and snatched some of the sweets Kakucho gave you.

Everything seemed normal. it wasn’t until a little after noontime when the scorching sun hit the blinds that a shadow fell over your desk. Looking up from your papers, there stood a tall man—a dangerous-looking man, you might add. A distinctive tattoo was peeking from the neck of his well-tailored suit, strikes of blue and white adorned his hair. The alarms in your head activated for the first time since you were with Bonten. Which meant that danger was imminent.

He greeted you, although his gaze was not on you but looking at his surroundings. Observing and analyzing.

“I’m here to see Bonten’s numbers two,” that was all he said, not sparing you a second glance.

Panic settled in your guts. Sanzu never told you about a scheduled meeting, nor that someone might be asking for him today. You felt that denying something to this individual was not a good answer and how you wished you had followed your instincts.

“I’m sorry, Sir, he's not here at the moment, but you can-” You were cut short when, out of nowhere, a hand hit on your desk, sending papers and pens flying everywhere.

“Call him, then,” now he did pay attention to you, yellow eyes scanning every inch of your features, “or not.”

he stepped closer to your desk, somehow, you felt he was about to break the wood and glass with his palm still there. He then proceeded to bend over, just a little, to have a closer look at you. And it was like recognition hit him and his eyes seemed to acquire a playful glint, “I don’t think he would mind if his secretary keeps me company.”

You felt your breath hitch in your throat. You froze under his scrutinizing eyes. As still as you were, your fingers itched to bash the keyboard on his face. What was this slimy feeling covering you, overwhelming you? A sudden thought shot through your mind… you were no cheap whore.

That’s what you wanted to scream at him, at least. But you held back— or more like, you were out of options. The fact that he was standing inside Bonten’s building unharmed and without an escort spoke volumes about the caliber of this individual.

Why was such a short interaction setting off all your distress signals? Why was your throat screaming for air even as you breathe? Cold fingertips and a racing heart were the least of your worries at the moment.

Damn, Sanzu and his unorganized schedule and his lack of communication and… you would have continued to mentally berate him if the previously mentioned individual hadn’t stepped around your desk and offered you his hand.

“What do you say we take a walk?” As much of a question as it sounded like, your instinct told you that there was not really an option to decline.

“My boss wouldn’t like me leaving my position…” you articulated with gritted teeth. Against your best judgment, you tried to kindly refuse with an excuse involving Sanzu.

“I’m sure he would make an exception for me,” those were his last words before one of his hands steered you away from your just-acquired desk.

And that’s how you were now walking away from your new desk and going to who knows where. Every step was a scream you swallowed. Again you wondered, what was your instinct detecting from him that your consciousness couldn’t comprehend?

He mentioned his name was Taiju and that you should be careful working in such a precarious organization, such a feeble thing as yourself shouldn’t be exposed to an all-male environment and he kept going on about it.

This… Taiju individual placed his hand on your lower back. Dangerously low. Too low for your liking. So much so that you even hurried your step to create some distance but it was futile.

As if they had heard your silent prayers, Rindou and Kokonoi arrived just in time to see your back being led away from your supposed workplace. Both men felt like cold buckets of water had been thrown at them, blood freezing as a picture they never imagined possible now rose in from of their very own eyes.

You heard your name being called, well, almost screamed. The big guy halted his steps and you followed soon after, both turning to the screaming duo at your backs.

“You can’t take her.” Rindou asserted with a very forced smile, hands already on their way to reach you and bolt if necessary.

“Why is that?” The blue-haired individual inquired.

“Because she’s—“

“She’s my girlfriend!”

Both Rindou and Kokonoi spoke at the same time respectively, the latter with more urgency than the other but the message was clear enough. You were not to be taken away just like that.

“Oh? Congratulations! I never expected you to settle down, Hajime-kun. I thought you would be with Sei—“

“Nonsense,” quickly replied the silver-haired man before moving beside you and hastily pulling you towards his body; avid fingers replaced the previous hand on your lower back—gripping your skin tightly.

“Then why is she with Pinky? Shouldn’t you be taking better care of your women?” Taiju bellowed, eyes analyzing how his old acquaintance held you with so much affection and care. It was clear to anyone witnessing the two people in front of him, how Kokonoi was desperately but subtly in a hurry to erase any trace of Taiju’s touch from you.

“Yeah, Koko, you should take better care of your woman,” Rindou added, internally biting his cheeks to stop himself from laughing at how unexpected of a reaction his colleague had. Forgotten was the panic no soon you were in his fellow member’s arms. Now he decided to play along just for the laughs.

Meanwhile, you were face-pressed against a hard chest and an expensive button. You would have an imprint of Koko’s button on your face, you thought as you silently groaned in frustration; but eternally grateful for their opportune interruption.

“I am,” Kokonoi sent death glares towards Rindou who seemed to forget where you had been a minute ago. He cursed his fellow member’s fish brain. Sending a nod to his old acquaintance, Koko mumbled a hurried goodbye and disappeared with you in his arms.

The remaining two were left standing, watching silver locs wave like a cape.

“That’s an… interesting character development, I must say.”

“He’s pussy whipped,” the purple head commented, dismissively as he took Taiju toward his own office. Of course, the pot calling the kettle black. Well, Rindou talked from first-hand experience.

How does he tell you that he panicked? How does he tell you that you might not have been in danger, but his mind refused to understand? How does he explain his actions when they are not consistent with how he always treats you?

Kokonoi Hajime knows it doesn’t make sense what he did or what he’s feeling. It had nothing to do with Taiju but everything to do with you.

He sat in silence with you on his lap, arms wrapped around you tightly as his mind circled over his latest silent outburst. Sanzu’s office wasn’t the coziest place but it would have to work for now.

Air was something you certainly knew you needed in order to live. You hoped you didn’t have to remind Koko of that fact as he kept tightening his grip as time passed.

Up and down, your eyes gazed over his side profile. The few details you could see from your perspective—face harshly compressed against him—seemed to suggest he was not here completely. The lost look he wore was new to you.

“Koko?” You mumbled curiosity and worry mixed together within you. After a while, the odd silence didn’t quite sit well with you. “Koko?” You called out his name for a second time, squirming in his constricted grasp in an attempt to get his attention.

“Hum?” He seemed lost as he hummed a response. Slowly blinking away whatever thoughts had captured him for the last several minutes.

You knew talking things with him was hard, you didn’t wanna say the wrong things and make him lock you out. That’s why you had waited in place, letting him process whatever happened in the hall. It was so uncharacteristic of him to claim you in public or even touch you in front of others. You had expected Rindou to make a scene but never from Kokonoi.

After another prolonged silence, you went for the safest route. Asking for the only phrase that stuck with you. “So I’m your girlfriend?”

“Of course, you are, dummy,” he whispered with a dry chuckle; cradling your head against his chest—not once did his grip loosened. You felt words weren’t needed at the moment, something told you just to be there for him.

Kokonoi wanted to reaffirm you were real, you were still there, you weren’t a product of his mind… like his younger self used to imagine.

Maybe that was it? The image of you simply walking away; your back facing him tormented him now. He felt like his old self again, the one who lost so much and the little he was left with he kept it under a thousand locks. His mind and body remembered the devastating events and the pain… the pain of having something so dear to you again and how easy it was for life to take everything away in the blink of an eye.

Fear paralyzes. That’s when he realized he was afraid, but also… in love. Love doesn’t make sense; it’s the only part of the equation he could never calculate accurately.

He was so in love, that he acted out of character—vulnerable and raw. Only you had been able to bring that back out from the innumerable hard shells covering his heart.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You might not know that your words were just what he needed. Saying whatever was at the tip of your tongue has always been a talent of yours.

“Thank you,” he said softly, unwavering. you both stayed intertwined in the coach until darkness fell.

Somewhere in Japan near an abandoned port.

“You did this on purpose, did you not?” Mochi accused the pink-haired man after checking the message Rindou had sent to the group chat.

“Dunno what you mean,” rebuked Sanzu.

ah, so feigning ignorance now, was it? Mochi sent him a questioning gaze. “Sanzu…”

“It’s a sign that she wasn’t supposed to be there. She’s perfectly safe at our place and I don’t need help with paperwork.” He nonchalantly told Mochi. “Hey! Roll out the tarp! I don’t want any mess here!” Sanzu bellowed at the henchmen around him.

“Nah, I agree. You knew.” Ran taunted him, walking toward the now laid-out tarp. “You knew at what time Koko was going to check on her with Rindou and Taiju just magically went straight to your office with no problem? Ha, right.”

Kakucho heard the conversation and nodded in agreement with Ran. Bonten’s enforcer would have engaged in the accusation party but three cold bodies rested at his feet and nobody else seemed to have his mind on the job at the moment. He barked orders to the footmen who were taking too long to move the deceased.

“No, it was Takeomi.”

Every Bonten member perked up at the information their leader was providing them with. Takeomi froze in place as four pairs of eyes focused on him. Mikey on the other hand, sat a top of a wooden pallet tower; munching carelessly on some snacks.

“Well, now it makes sense. It was too much of a good plan to be yours.” Ran commented out loud with a laugh.

“Excuse me? I was part of the plan!” Argued Sanzu like a hissing kitten.

“Didn’t you just say you didn’t know?”

Sanzu looked at Mochi with exasperation as the sound of something heavy hitting the plastic tarp resonated in the background.

“You approved, though,” mentioned Takeomi who was standing close to Mikey.

“Sometimes it’s better to let a bird clash against the glass. It learns that sometimes no matter how clear the path looks, you can’t always fly at your heart’s content.” Mikey said as he dusted off the remaining pieces of crackers from his dark shirt. “And eventually… it won’t fly in that direction ever again.”

“And Koko?” Mused Kakucho joined the two men conversing.

“He needed a push in the right direction. He’s as hardheaded as always.” Chuckled Takeomi before tasking a drag of his cigarette.

[wings-of-ink]

Update Progress and Things to Look Forward to

Hello everyone! I hope you are safe and well.

Chapter 5 is coming right along. My goal is to still have it out by the end of November, but the way the last couple of weeks have been for me, we might hit a little delay into the first week of December.

And do not worry, because I know some of you will, I'm good. It's just been busy this month. I've had a friend going through a hard time who's needed a hand up, and I've also needed to work overtime at my daytime gig. My friend is doing better now and I won't need to do more overtime again until sometime in mid-December.

I will not say that the chapter will for sure be delayed, though. This coming week I have extra time off from work (and there was much rejoicing), and I am hoping to dedicate more of it to finishing the final segments of the chapter. And then, I just have to fuse all the individual segments together and do as much proofreading as I can before I deem it "good enough for now" and publish it.

This chapter is a big one, lol. But, I didn't want to cut it short since it is an important section where you learn a lot, grow a bit, and connect with your crew (and maaaaaybe get into some big trouble).

I still have a couple short scenes to flesh out, and then a bigger finale, which I am so excited to finally write!

I'll go ahead and note that saves will almost definitely be broken - again. I had a few things that I did not anticipate before and had to make some coding changes for the earlier chapters. On the plus side, I also figured out where I went wrong with the fonts, so that should be fixed at least.

I will be opening up the Patreon with the release of Chapter 5 if anyone is interested! We'll start out with a couple tiers and grow from there. Both main tiers will focus on extras and early chapter releases - so expect POVs, drabbles, and spicy things.

In December, I'd like to release a couple extras both publically and in the Patreon, but I won't spoil any of that now so I can tease you with it later.

In the more distant future, I plan to create a way to skip chapters so you don't need to speedrun to get to new content. I will take more time to get Chapter 6 out so I can fine-tune a few things for all the previous chapters as well. I'm hoping to get them more smoothed out with a good deal of copyediting.

Reaction-style asks are still paused, but if you have general questions/recommendations/comments, send them my way!

There are many adventures ahead, my friends!

Take care, everyone! Stay safe! ^_^

As a treat, there's a semi-spoilery (kinda not really???) sneak peek below!

Hmmm...who are you with and why is your friend watching you so close???

[feelbokkie]

L♡VE IN F♡CUS | Chapter 15

PAIRING: idol!Changbin x fem reader

WARNINGS:

GENRE: smau, crack, angst, fluff

P♡V: 1st/2nd person (depending on how you view it)

SUMMARY: Amateur concert photographer Y/n has recently been promoted to junior music journalist. Her first assignment? An exposé on the popular Kpop boy group, Stray Kids. Spending an entire tour doing in depth interviews with eight men seems simple enough, but one member isn't exactly open to the idea. Will Y/n be able to break down the walls around his heart, or will her big break turn into a big disaster?

TAGLIST: closed

W♡RD C♡UNT: 2,132

SCREENSH♡T C♡UNT: 17

A/N: we're officially at the halfway mark of the series

PREVIOUS | MASTERLIST | NEXT

©feelbokkie (2024) — all rights reserved. reposting/modification of any kind is not tolerated.

“Okay, one more time for your Instagram. Ready? 1…2…3!”

Click

You pull the camera away from your face and immediately check the image as best you can on the tiny screen. Not long after, you’re surrounded by 10 men, crowding around you, slightly pushing each other so they can see the picture, too. One by one, each of them gives off some sort of hum of approval before breaking away from the group.

“Here, let me just…” You go through the settings in your camera and send the picture via Bluetooth to Minjae’s phone. You also make sure to send a copy to their manager.

You power down your camera before digging your phone out of your pocket. You open up a new contact and hand your phone to their manager. “Can I have your phone number and email? I’ll finish the article in a few hours and email it for approval. Once everything is set, we’ll post the article online.”

The manager nods his head as he takes your phone. You watch the group fondly from the corner of your eye as they dance and cheer excitedly by the infamous Music Bank stairs. You take mental notes of each of their reactions, storing them in a safe place for when you write the article.

“Here you go.” Your eyes snap back to the man in front of you as you take your phone back, double-checking that everything was put in correctly. Satisfied, you save everything and put your phone back into your pocket.

“Perfect,” You say cheerfully. You turn back to the group, some of which are trying to take pictures behind the handrail of the stairs. Minjae quietly gets their attention as he notices you staring. “Congratulations again on your first win! I can’t wait to see more of your achievements in the future. Xikers, fighting!”

A small wave of ‘thank yous’ are hurled your way and you can’t hide the smile that appears on your face. You wave goodbye before turning back to the small table near the green room where you left your coffee. Surprisingly, it’s still there along with other abandoned drinks. You take a moment to set your bag on the table and carefully disassemble your camera, making sure to properly close the caps to avoid anything from happening. You wedge your camera safely next to your laptop.

You close up your bag and finally pick up your coffee before taking a long-awaited sip. It’s watered down now—that much you expected after letting it sit for nearly two hours.

Your eyes scan the room as you sip. You've been backstage since the show wrapped earlier and have yet to catch a glimpse of Changbin. It doesn't help that pretty much every idol that attended the show is still backstage, either filming content with their group members or other idols. You're not even sure you're supposed to still be backstage. Surely, you look suspicious standing off on a corner all by yourself with a "press" badge hanging off your neck. You can't simply say that you're waiting for Changbin. Everyone knows that Stray Kids didn't appear on the show so why would any one of them be there?

"You're not allowed to be here, miss." A high-pitched voice breaks your concentration.

"Oh sorry, I was waiting for someone but...ah," You turn to apologize to whoever is talking to you. You pause mid-sentence when you lock eyes with Changbin. The mischievous smirk you've grown accustomed to twitches on his face as he tries, and fails, to hide it.

"Really, noona? You fell for that?" He lets out a laugh that almost sounds like a cackle, scrunching his nose in the process.

His hair is back to black but wavy again. His skin-tight black shirt is tucked into slightly baggy blue jeans with large pockets that resemble cargo pants. A large winter coat hangs from his left hand, just barely scratching the floor.

"Haha, very funny." You roll your eyes. You suck in the pout threatening to appear on your face and shift your weight onto a different foot. You're also acutely aware that other people in the room can misunderstand what's going on. "What did you want to give me, Changbin-ssi? A hard time?"

Changbin's expression drops, his mouth slightly agape as his eyes dart back and forth, searching your face. "Wait, are you mad? Really?"

"Why? Because I'm talking to you formally? I'm not, I'm just addressing you how I should." You quietly take another sip from your drink, suddenly feeling awkward.

"Well, I don't like it," His bottom lip sticks out so quickly, you're almost certain it's an involuntary movement. Still, it looks like someone kicked a puppy.

"We're in public and someone will misunderstand." You whisper. Still, you stay where you're standing, doing nothing to close the gap between the two of you.

"So? Let people think what they want to think. I'm talking to my friend,"

"You and I know both know very well that's a dangerous thing to do in your line of work." You mutter under your breath, getting tired of the tiny argument. "Anyway, what did you have for me?"

"Oh right," He pats around the pockets of his pants until he finds something small in his back right pocket. "Here, this is very important. You need to guard it with your life."

Changbin grabs your wrist, something you're hoping nobody saw, and pulls your hand closer to him. He turns your hand around, making your palm face up. He carefully places something in your hand and closes your fingers around it before you can even get a chance to see what it is. After he lets go of you, you pull your hand back, eying him cautiously, and slowly open your hand to see what he gave you.

In the center of your hand lays a black thumb drive with what appears to be a white star crudely drawn on it. You tilt your head back up, your eyes continuously glance between Changbin and the thumb drive. "What's this?"

"Our next mini album. I don't know how much is in there so I don't know what I'm allowed to tell you."

You close your fingers around the thumb drive, keeping your grip tight now that you know what's in your hands. "Already? Hop is barely a month old. And you're about to go on tour again."

"It's...it's not coming out until late February, early March. We'll have time to do promotions and then rest before we do the rest of the tour. Chan hyung wanted you to have it now so you could have time to write the review and not stress."

"He could have just emailed it to me. No need to send you to hunt me down."

"He tried. Technology is fickle and he's an old man."

"I'm older than him,"

"Really?" You can't tell by the way Changbin is tilting his head to the side if he's teasing you or being serious.

You shake your head, ignoring him, as you carefully put the thumb drive in your back. You can't help but let out a deep sigh. "Jeez, and you call me a workaholic,"

"What was that, noona?" Changbin leans in a bit to hear you better.

Too close.

You stumble slightly as you back up. You brace yourself to hit the wall behind you only to be stopped suddenly, by a firm grip on your wrist.

"Careful, noona," Changbin warns. His eyes focus on you while yours shift around behind him. Your eyes settle on a group of four trying to work on a dance challenge near the stairs.

"Thank you," You mumble as you shake your wrist out of his.

You know that another reporter is walking around somewhere. There has to be, there's no way you're the only one. And if you are, you know that there are staff members who'll gossip with whomever they can at any given moment. The last thing you want is for Changbin to falsely end up on dispatch.

"So," Changbin clears his throat. "were you planning on eating something or were you going to run on coffee beans all day?"

You tilt your head slightly to the side in confusion until Changbin gestures to your now empty coffee cup. "Oh, I--"

Buzz, buzz

You press your lips together and shoot Changbin an apologetic look as you answer your phone without looking at the caller ID. "Hello?"

"Hey, I'm here. They won't let me park in the parking lot but I'm near a loading zone. Are you almost done?"

"Wonnie?" The voice throws you off for a moment. You're not sure who you expected but it wasn't exactly him.

"Yeah? Are you okay? I said I was going to pick you up, remember? If you're done come out. Frankie is insufferable when she's hangry." He says a bit louder.

"Yeah, okay, I'll be out in a moment." You hang up the call and focus your attention back to Changbin who now sports a slight scowl on his face. "Sorry, I already have lunch plans. And then I need to get home and finish this Xikers piece."

"You need to take breaks, noona. Album reviews, award show wins, tour-centered projects? You don't have to be on the go all of the time." His expression softens, a slight twinkle shines in his eye.

"I don't do award show wins. I just begged my boss to let me cover this event because I've been following Xikers since before their debut and I wanted to be the one to cover their first Music Bank win. And I'm not the only one who needs to slow down. This is the 3rd album you've guys done and it hasn't even been six months yet."

You can see Changbin biting his inner cheek, stopping himself from saying something. He nods slowly, almost in agreement. "I didn't intend to argue with you, noona. I'm sorry. I get having the drive to work but I have seven brothers who'll keep me and check and keep an eye out for me if I'm about to crash. Who do you have?"

You can't stop the scoff that escapes your throat fast enough as you cross your arms. You dig your nails into your arms to keep yourself calm. It's bad enough that a quarter of the music industry is in the same room you are, if you get a bad reputation as a reporter, you're done for.

As much as what he said rubs you the wrong way, you force a smile. You know he means well, your relationship has gotten significantly better since the two of you made amends months ago. And as much as you may dislike it, Changbin is a much more straightforward person than he comes off as in videos. He's always willing to deal out the hard truths first and then try to soften the blow after. At the end of the day, you know he means well.

"I'm fine, Changbin, really. If you compare the two, my job is a lot more relaxed than yours."

"Comparison is the thief of joy," He says seriously.

"What are you? A fortune cookie?" You can't help but laugh. A large smile appears on Changbin's face making the crinkles in the corner of his eyes appear. Somehow, his expression reminds you of something.

You dig around for something in your bag before your fingers graze a small envelope holding the two Pokémon cards you got from Wonseok and Wonjae during Christmas. You pull out the envelope and give it a once over before holding it out to Changbin. "Here, I was supposed to give you this back in Hong Kong but things were hectic. See? I'm giving you a gift so you know I'm not mad."

Changbin takes the envelope from you and opens it immediately. His face lights up as he pulls out the cards, and yet, no words come out. This is probably the quietest you've ever seen him.

"They're your favorite right?" You close your bag once more and readjust it on your shoulder.

"Yeah but how did you...?" His voice trails off as he looks at both cards.

"That's what happens when you're good at your job." You tease, winking at him. You check your phone one more time as a text comes in from Wonseok telling you to hurry up. "You don't have to worry about me overworking, Changbin. You should not worry about me being late for this lunch date. I'll see you during the comeback, maybe. If not, I'll see you in Chile."

"...Yeah, bye noona," Changbin whispers more to himself than to you. You nod quietly and make your way to the exit before you get another call from Wonseok.

—

Buy me a coffee?

—

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[misscammiedawn]

Y'know--

Earlier this year we replied to a post by Foone Turing about Bejeweled and the fact that the game can be easily modded to become a hypno-conditioning game by editing the text files in Zen Mode.

The post broke containment and currently has about 11k notes.

Every now and again we get notifs and cannot help but check and though there's a lot of positivity in there, it always bums me out when I see people being squicked and ugly about it.

Like-- I'm sorry? My girlfriend and I like to do fun and suggestive things with a puzzle game? It's kind of weird how the words "obey" and "good girl" appearing on the screen when you solve a simple mindless puzzle game can cause people such revulsion.

Like-- we feel guilty about our interest in hypnokink. Way less than when it was bad enough that we had an entire dissociated state of self to interact with that side of our life so we didn't involve ourselves (Hi, Dawn!), but our shame and repulsion over topics of erotic intimacy are crippling at times. We're getting better but it's hard for us.

I hate that even though we gravitated to a niche that doesn't even require nudity or genital contact, it can still be met with such judgmental eyes and I sorta resent that our post gets that kind of engagement on a daily basis?

It's fine. We're fine. We're proud of our talent and our niche. It's why we run our blog like this. We don't WANT to hide in shame and pretend we're squeaky clean when we have our little interests. We wanna normalize this shit.

But-- it just-- I hate the reminders that it's abnormal and weird and gross to most people, y'know?

There's another "broke containment" post by-- a person-- about the rampant racism in the hypno-community. Which is still a problem, though since ROM was established to combat it-- it's gotten a bit better and all the replies were all this "GURL WAT!?" level knee-jerk disgust when it was a hypno-blogger, blogging about hypnosis, on their hypno-themed blog and talking about a serious topic which deeply impacts a lot of our more vulnerable members lives.

IDK... I just hate that kind of dismissive judgment, especially when you walk into someone else's house to do it.

[rey-jake-therapist]

I didnt realize Payne clarified that Sauron wanted Galadriel to be *his* queen. I've seen some antis insist that he wasn't attracted to her in the least so he meant to say 'I can make you A queen, but not MY queen'.

And they were also going on how there's a hierarchy in the film industry, in which certain positions hold more narrative and directional authority despite what actors and lower level exec's say. That's why they kept using this hierarchy that Payne and McKay override Charlotte's words about haladriel. But if we go by the Anti's information, then that confirms that Sauron did want Galadriel as HIS QUEEN (love or not), since its stated exactly that way by Payne himself. If not, then why didn't he say 'A queen with me', or 'A queen by my side', instead? There are other ways he could've phrased. Even if you say that he used 'basically', that still doesn't change the fact that Payne made it clear that Sauron wanted Galadriel to rule WITH him, not by some corner of ME (I know we're kind of ignoring Gal atm to dissect the wording but I see them as fictional characters not real people lol). It also kind of overrides some of Charlie's earlier remarks where he denies or subverts Sauron's intention regarding making her queen. But it echoes back to what you said though, that things change over time.

And just to make it clear, we don't need to necessarily obey what showrunners/actors have said and treat it like it's a hard rule for how we interpret these characters. This is just an interesting piece of info I think should be pointed out. Especially since haters will find anything to try to minimize and invalidate haladriel. I feel very sad (for them lol).

Well, I'll answer that by saying that first, I don't think that I can do that ignoring Gal's response, simply because what she answered is important to understand why Sauron didn't say "my" queen, imho.

I think we can't leave Galadriel outside of the loop here, because the phrasing used by Sauron is directly connected to the way she herself used. She said, "you would make me A tyrant", to which he naturally answers, "I would make you A queen". Then she's the one using the "MY" : "And you. MY king".

What I think, it's that the writers wanted to highlight the fact that them being together as king and queen/husband and wife was her idea as much as his. I think it's important for the interpretation of that scene, for the audience to realize that Galadriel wanted this.

Let's say Sauron had said, "I would make you MY queen", and she had answered, "And you would be the king" : it would have sounded like something that was forced on her : she would have been his wife in this scenario, wether she wanted it or not. It would have given "forced marriage" vibes, and would have deprived Galadriel of her agency. And believe me : if the antis are now using this scene against shippers because Sauron didn't say "my queen", you can be sure that they would have weaponized this scene even more if they could have interpreted it that way.

With Galadriel being the one who says, "And you. My king", it says that she was seeing herself ruling with him, as queen and king and as husband and wife. Notice that he didn't correct her, as it was probably what he wanted to hear.

It also kind of overrides some of Charlie's earlier remarks where he denies or subverts Sauron's intention regarding making her queen.

I mean, I don't know if it overrides it. Charlie first denied that it was a marriage proposal, but later admitted that this was "de facto" exactly that.

"Sauron, meanwhile, won’t make the mistake of connecting with someone ever again, not after Galadriel’s rejection of his de facto “marriage proposal,” as Vickers describes it, at the end of Season 1. “He’s moved on to bigger and better things” since, Vickers argues, but try as they might, there’s no denying their entwined fates.  "Galadriel and Sauron share the deepest connection to another being either of them has ever experienced, a fact that haunts them both in the new episodes. What they share “is greater than romance,” Vickers explains. “Their connection runs far deeper than anything surface level.”

Source

Now if you refer to the fact that Charlie claimed several times that if Galadriel had accepted his offer, she would have been nothing more than his secretary, another shiny ring at his hand, I also don't think that it contradicts the idea that he wanted her to be at his side as a queen. I often read that Charlie's wrong, because Sauron is a Maiar who was created to follow and serve. So by this logic, he wanted to worship Galadriel like he worshipped Morgoth.

I think it's true, for most of it, and we saw it during all season 1 : who called all the shots ? Galadriel did. Who followed her despite his initial refusal ? Sauron. She wanted him to be a king ? He made himself a king. She wanted him to go rescue the Southlands with her ? He went with her, even if first, he didn't want to ! The fact that it was in his personal interest to do that is besides the point : at no moment did he try to force her into doing anything. It's not in his nature, and being in his repetant era then, Sauron was more inclined to listen to his nature than we saw him be in season 2. In season 1, Sauron was the happiest we saw of him so far, especially when he was at the forge, doing what he was created for, but also when he followed Galadriel on the battlefield :

I mean, words have their importance especially when it comes to Sauron, who never chooses his words randomly :

She "pushed" him. He described here exactly what a leader does. After Morgoth's defeat, he found himself leaderless, and he was lost because due to his nature, what he really wants/needs is someone who takes the lead. In Galadriel, he recognized someone who had the potential to do just that. In season 2, we saw him in a position of leadership, manipulating everybody like a puppet to make them do everything he wanted, yada yada. And yet, that was his face for 99% of the season :

He seemed as alive as a dead fish.

Now, where my opinion often diverges from what seems to be this most popular opinion, is that I believe Charlie's nevertheless right regarding the turn their partnership as king and queen would have taken, had Galadriel accepted. Thousands of years ago, Mairon was corrupted by Morgoth, and as time passed, I think he developed a desire to overrule Morgoth, because that's what this kind of corruption does : it gives an hunger for power, even to beings who are not originally meant to want it. As Sauron, he was given an incommensurable power over others, and he enjoyed it. He always followed Morgoth and never betrayed him (probably because he had sworn a blood oath to him, preventing him to take any action against him), but he grew extremely frustrated of his methods, as he had a different vision.

And of course he did, because destroying was, again, not what he was created for. What Morgoth did, and asked him to do, went against his nature. As apprentice of Aulë, he became skilled at crafting and making things. When Celebrimbor told him his only craft was treachery, it must have hit HARD, because it wasn't always the case.

(Aside note : I was a bit annoyed that Celebrimbor was the one who got to hit Sauron where it hurt the most, while Galadriel only got a pathetic "heal yourself" that couldn't mean anything to him because they never had any conversation about his corruption by Melkor).

He started dreaming of the idea that if Morgoth was ever to disappear, he would take his place and rule in his stead, and that's exactly what he tried to do once Morgoth was defeated :

As we saw, it didn't turn out very well. Why ? I think, because Sauron wasn't Morgoth, he wasn't a born dictator, and he didn't manage to inspire enough fear of him to Adar and the Orcs, only resentment, so when he tried to put Morgoth's crown on his head, they betrayed him.

(idk but maybe looking like a twink didn't help. Just sayin')

But it doesn't mean that Sauron gave up on his dream of ruling, though. So I think that when he decided that he wanted Galadriel to be his queen, he was probably torn between what his nature dictated him to do (giving her all the power she needed to have to be THE queen of Middle-Earth, while he would get the follower's role he had beside Morgoth back), and the ambitions he nourished of ruling Middle-Earth himself, leaving only crumbs to Galadriel like Morgoth did to him. Even in this scenario, he would have shared his power with her, but not enough to take the reigns of the kingdom.

We can't know what would have happened, we can only speculate, but I tend to side with Charlie on this one because at the beginning, there's a clear power imbalance between them : Sauron is a powerful Maiar, a demigod, and Galadriel is just an Elf. For her to become as powerful as him and be his equal, would have required him to willingly share the entirety of his power with her. Would have he done that, while he had all these ideas about healing Middle-Earth and believed he and only he knew exactly how to do it... ?

I mean, the only thing we can be sure of, it is that it was his intention to give her plenty of power. He wanted everybody not to just respect her, but to worship her like a goddess. It's the extent of this power that we don't know about. And did he want to be worshipped too ? I'd say, probably yes, personally.

Sorry anon, I didn't start answering this ask planning to write a dissertation... I guess I can't help myself, when it comes to Sauron. He's just that interesting !

[ohitslen]

Living together.

The snail video if you are interested :)

[seaofreverie]

NEW CONCERT ON THE HORIZON..... Going to see Franz Ferdinand next year !!!

[nomidreams]

god i finally watched new episodes my honest reaction is jgiwoaoKzmxmkwkakkak

[transmasc-rose]

I was talking to Curtis about how certain aspects of Doctor Who would be treated if they were episodes of Torchwood and/or had that rating leniency of Torchwood (imo the limitations of Doctor Who make for better TV than Torchwood in general, but not always) and when I brought up Amy's Choice, Curtis said I should do an episode rewrite and.

Hm. Hmmm. That could be really interesting. Amy and Rory and the Doctor's dynamic would be so... different in a Torchwood rated show, given the things they do with them in Doctor Who, and if they actually used the Dream Lord as an interesting villain (and they'd actually be able to play into the Doctor's worst traits in an adult show! For better and for worse!)...

However I'd have to actually rewatch Amy's Choice, and also decide how much I want to stay faithful to the episode, how much I want to stay faithful to "what would/could Torchwood have done here, and how much I actually want the result to be. Good.

Because "what Torchwood would do" and "what would be interesting" are not necessarily the same things.

(Accidentally wrote a Novel in the tags also. Whoops.)

[forcebookish]

wrote that new topmew fic very quickly and now i'm not really happy with it (there's an inaccuracy that i don't actually want to get rid of dfslkdjf) but now i don't know what to work on >:(

[daringdarlingdt]

curious to know your thoughts about GFA if you feel like sharing some more

ok ok ok I always feel like sharing more so i will blabber about it for a while but I will preface this by saying that it was. a lot. and I don't think I've had time to really internalize it and distill my thoughts and feelings into something cohesive and intelligent yet so this will be messy. and also very very long. you've been warned. but also thanks for asking lol :)

firstly, i found the relationship between Sidney and Hawkeye while he was institutionalized really interesting. Everything about those scenes seemed really well done to me. I mean I've never repressed a traumatic memory and then had a breakdown about it to my dear friend/therapist after spending a while (a few weeks? a month? multiple months?*) trying to get out of one intolerable environment and back to an equally, but more familiar and comfortable intolerable environment,,, so I can't say authoritatively what that should look like, but I thin Alan Alda did a really fantastic job of portraying it and the dialogue in those scenes was convincing to me. Like the sort of verbal tic of glossing over the actually traumatic part of the story and avoiding dealing with those feelings where hawkeye goes "and so and so and so..." all made that process of forcing him to confront it feel pretty real to me. Also the way Hawkeye antagonizes Sidney even though in the past he's been pretty open and cooperative when he thinks there's something wrong with him (Hawk's Nightmare, Bless You Hawkeye), and gets defensive, lashing out at Sidney, and insisting he's fine, even preferring to go back to the 4077th than stay there and actually work through the problem. I thought that made it more convincing that there *was* something wrong with him because taking his frustrations out on wise, mild-mannered, friendly Sidney would have been out-of-character otherwise, but because it was clear he was avoiding something else and on edge it worked really well to actually get that point across. I feel like I could talk about all of the details of these scenes forever so I'm gonna move on but there were all sorts of little moments that really stuck with me as saying a lot about both characters and the tension between them and whatever it is that's making hawkeye act this way, up until the tension breaks and hawkeye remembers and there's a release and the process of getting better can actually start to happen.

*it wasn't particularly clear to me how long hawkeye was there, both before the episode starts and throughout the episode, although the latter couldn't have been too long because BJ only sticks around for a few days after he gets his travel orders right? but then in the time between getting the letter and coming back, BJ visits Hawkeye which leads to the breakthrough and then it's (presumably) at least a few days after that that Hawkey goes back to the 4077th and BJ has just left. idk the timeline of the episode seemed a bit jumpy to me. It's also not clear how long they're at the bug-out location before they return to the 4077th at the end. not that that's really important--timelines have also always been inconsequential on this show so why start questioning it now?

I loved the scene where they all talk to him on the phone and are so uncomfortable and walking on eggshells and don't know how to respond when he tells each of them, relatively crudely, how desperately he doesn't want to be there while also revealing the depths of his denial. Margaret calls him 'Hawkeye' which she literally never does and it just sounds so wrong coming out of her mouth because she's obviously trying way too hard to be casual. they just so clearly don't know how to handle it because it only makes it clearer that he does have to be there and while it breaks my heart and I, from a more watsonian perspective, wish BJ or Margaret or someone could've really shined in that moment and said something to actually make Hawkeye feel better or at least distract him and get some banter going, that awkwardness just adds to the overall tension surrounding Hawkeye's stay in the psychiatric war which makes sense.

moving on, the BJ-and-Hawkeye energy episode in this episode was so weird to me. I don't know how to explain it. I think know I'm not the only one absolutely insane about everything that goes on between them in this episode but it felt especially shocking to me, I think, because I finished the rest of season 11 about a week before watching GFA (i had a bunch of school work and exams to worry about and wanted to wait till I could afford to sit down and watch the whole thing and sit with it for a while) but in the meantime I've been rewatching season 1-3 episodes for shits and giggles. So the off-kilterness of BJ and Hawk in this episode felt especially stark against Hawk and Trap's easly synchronicity. I generally am not a huge BJ fan so his like I-have-a-kid superiority moments didn't sit well with me, as usual and there were a bunch of them but that's fine; I liked how BJ talking about little Erin, as he literally *always* does set Hawkeye off and how clearly afraid of/for Hawkeye BJ was in the scene where he visits him. I liked that he does pick up a pen and paper to write a note to Hawkeye but doesn't have the time to think of what to say. I feel like that was a redeeming moment for Trapper almost-- it's also parallel to Hawk not knowing what to leave for BJ in Where There's a Will There's a War (if I loved you less I could talk about it more vibes)--he even tells Margaret that there's too much to say. but I also like Hawkeye's annoyance at it when he comes back and mentioning Trapper too and that little moment of insecurity saying that maybe there's something wrong with him. even though he's overall a very self-assured and confident person, I like the moments we get to see that he has a very human response to specific criticisms or rejections from the people that he's closest to; Hawkeye loves deeply and wholly and I feel like this is him being worried that their friendship meant more to him than to BJ, and the same for Trapper. Plus it's indicative of him not being back to 100% post-breakdown and there. actually being something wrong with him.

I was a fan of how sort of distant Hawkeye felt to everyone when he got back as well. I'm a bit foggier on this train of thought so I'm not entirely sure if this was intentional or not but there weren't a lot of scenes with Hawkeye and the rest of the characters after he returns and they don't really ever talk about the fact that he was literally in a psychiatric hospital and it also felt kind of appropriate to me. I think, again, it would have been nice to have a heart-warming open conversation about feelings and such after this and Hawkeye generally is pretty big on sharing his feelings and telling his stories and I think he would have if asked, but the fact that no one really wanted to linger on the issue makes sense both for the time (~stigma~) and for the characters who don't want to be reminded that they could theoretically have had the same reaction, and who just want things to go back to normal. They do express concern for him in small ways but mostly they just pretend like nothing happened. I think Margaret was the least like this, she was worried before Hawkeye operated for the first time and I really loved the small scene between them after bandaging a kid up when she says they can take a break and asks how he's doing. She's really making an effort to be there for him check up on him and since I'm a sucker for a Margaret/Hawkeye bestie moment I really appreciated that. But we do sort of get to see that hawkeye gets gradually better, from his extreme shakiness first time back in the operating room to operating on the young girl despite being a bit freaked... but also in terms of slowly re-integrating himself into the social flow of the camp. He seems pretty isolated when he first gets back, not really present in a lot of group scenes, leaving the party, and then by the party at the end he seems pretty much at home again. I do like, though, how he never really returns to the energy he had before. he just seems a bit muted and while that breaks my heart, it's another example of how both he and the narrative can't just bounce back after seeing the extent of the war's toll on Hawkeye and pushing him basically to his breaking point.

some non-Hawkeye-centric drabble:

I really wish some time had been put into developing Klinger and Soon-Lee's relationship, as well as Soon-Lee as a character on her own, before GFA. I think we do get a good sense of what kind of person Soon-Lee is and I like her a lot and I think GFA handles that storyline relatively well considering the minimal set-up it has but it would've been nice to see Soon-Lee more involved in the camp before the episode and know what she's like beyond her desperate need to find her family, as well as how she's interact with other characters besides Klinger--like Margaret is bridesmaid at the wedding and they have a very sweet goodbye moment but we don't see them talk to each other once before that. that could have been an interesting friendship if they'd had the time. I also have mixed feelings about Klinger staying in Korea as an ending for his character overall. Like it's very sweet and is a meaningful choice within the Soon-Lee plot because he's sacrificing returning to the home he adores so much for her which shows how much he loves her but selfishly i feel cheated out of the satisfaction of Klinger finally getting to go back to Toledo, after 9 seasons (I don't think they mention he's from there before Adam's Rib in season 3) of him waxing poetic about it .

I liked Charles' arc in the episode too. He had the two things going on with the Chinese POW musicians and tiff with Margaret. I don't have much to say about it except that it all felt very in-character for him and sort of encapsulated the gradual breaking down of his walls that'd happened over the past 5 seasons within those two hours just to really remind you of how far he'd come. I don't have super strong feelings about Charles as a character but David Ogden Stiers' performance was phenomenal, as always.

I kind of wish more had happened with Father Mulcahy i think. All of the characters were so isolated, actually, not just Hawkeye. Aside from Margaret, Charles barely talks to anyone, Klinger and Soon-Lee are their own thing and Mulcahy relies on BJ and God alone in regards to his struggle as he comes to terms with being deaf. I feel like he doesn't really have much catharsis.

I really liked that Margaret decided to work in a hospital as a nurse instead of stay in the army after the war. I love that she decided to make a choice based on what she felt was most important instead of just to get approval from her father; and also her priorities have changed. She always took nursing very seriously and was concerned with being competent as well as compassionate but early seasons Margaret would not have made that choice regardless of her father as a factor. It seems self-evident that a main character in a supposedly anti-military show wouldn't want to be promoted in the military but by season 11.. who knows it could have gone another way. but that wouldn't have made sense for Margaret's character at all so I'm glad that they actually showed how much she grew and let her have a happy ending with herself at the center of it instead of the army, or her father, or a love interest.

The actual goodbye sequence at the end felt a little bit stale to me actually. Maybe because it was just so formulaic and practical like with them each taking off individually on different modes of transportation after saying an individual goodbye to each person. It felt a little bit hokey in that way, although i guess it did make sure that each character duo got a proper parting moment. Still sweet though and there were things I liked about each character's departure. the Hawkeye/Margaret kiss moment i have mixed feelings about. I really hated BJ and Hawk saluting Potter. and with all its faults I did like the Goodbye sign from BJ to Hawkeye.

I liked that it was actually kind of bittersweet because of BJ promising Hawk that they would see each other and that the note was "just in case" except Hawkeye doesn't hear any of that, he just sees the note. He doesn't hear the promise. but he got the goodbye he wanted. but maybe he thinks it's just BJ admitting to what he already thought which would be sad. just. so many feelings. so I guess it kind of works for me idk. I will also say that despite being a staunch piercintyre defender and generally disagreeing with most beejhawk theories, the final goodbye between them did more to convince me of repressed BJ than the other 8 seasons combined. Idk what it was about Mike Farell's performance in those few moments but i Got It for a minute before they hugged and Hawkeye ran off.

ok I think that's all I have to say for now. sorry for how long this ended up being but I did warn you lol. I'd love to hear any thoughts you, or anyone on mashblr reading this, have on my thoughts or just about GFA in general although I absolutely do not expect anyone to respond to everything I talked about here because it was kind of everything about the episode.

[starry-bi-sky]

Just as it was in the air, the drive to wherever they're going is a mess of orange-streetlight smeared blurs and rapid-passing buildings. Danny keeps his head rested against the door, forehead pressing against the cold window, and breathing slowly through his mouth.

From his unfocused peripherals, the man -- of whom with the passing lights, Danny can see is dressed as... some kind of bat? Honestly, not the weirdest thing he's ever seen. -- routinely keeps glancing over at him. He's never seen someone grip a steering wheel so tightly.

"Do you know what your godfather poisoned you with?" The man eventually asks, his voice just as soft and raspy as it was in the air.

It takes Danny a moment to realize he spoke at all, his brain sluggishly catching up to his ears. "Hrm?" He blinks, lifting his head. Danny regrets it immediately, his vision swims nauseatingly and blurs dangerously. He rests his head again. "Oh. Y'h. A flow'r called blood bloss'um."

They pass a streetlight, shining just enough light that Danny sees the Bat-Man's lips purse. Danny's mouth opens, but he makes no sound, his mind trying to find the words he's looking for. "I'z- it's extinct."

He huffs a laugh just as the man snaps his head to look at him, regretting it with a sharp cough and a feeling of dust in his lungs. Weakly waggling his fingers to make jazz hands, Danny slurs; "Shcience."

A coughing fit overtakes him then, and without the adrenaline of flying and running away from Vlad to distract him, the ache and burn of consistently coughing returns and hits hard and sharp. He's been stabbed before, and somehow this still hurts more.

(Well, one is being stabbed. The other is the result of a toxin made from a flower specifically evolved to eat ectoplasm. Something Danny is 50% made of.)

Whining low and through grit teeth, Danny turns and curls back up into the corner of his seat, arms boxing over his head as if that will make him hurt less. Tears spring into his eyes, and he tries to use the feeling of breathing to distract himself.

If he's still breathing, everything will be okay.

Wherever they're going, he hopes they get there fast.

----

("You're a hero, right?" The boy said, but the way he said it made it sound like he was only asking as a formality. That of course Bruce was a hero, it was obvious.)

(He didn't know how to tell him that no, he wasn't. Then he didn't have the time.)

Bruce's hands would be shaking if it weren't for the white-knuckle grip on the car's steering wheel. Every time he focuses back on the road in front of him, his eyes are drawn back towards the boy coiled like a ball in the passenger seat.

He can't tell if it's rage or fear that's making his arms tremble.

The boy -- Daniel, if the voice of his godfather was to be believed -- is small. Bruce could wrap his thumb and forefinger around his wrist, and he's positive they would touch. A waifish, slip of a thing, and Bruce thought he'd been small as a child. His clothes -- simple, unremarkable; a hoodie that hangs off his shoulders and a band shirt he doesn't recognize -- look too big on him, and Bruce wonders if Daniel even knows he's shivering.

This was not how Bruce thought his night would be going -- he was following a lead on Falcone and his people. Now he was rushing back to the cave with a boy who couldn't be any older than fifteen, a boy who was dying of poison because of his godfather.

Hurt and fury bubbles beneath his ribs.

(Who does this to a kid?)

He glances at Daniel again. Messy, sweat-slicked black hair clings to his forehead, and gathers around his ears. It looks like it hasn't been cut in months. He's unnaturally pale, and Bruce isn't sure if his paleness is from the poison, or his natural color. It highlights the dark circles beneath glassy blue eyes, peering unfocused and teary out from lidded eyes.

The blood dripping off his chin is damning and stark against his skin. Some of it is half-dried against his cheek, but most is a horrifying dark red and wet, staining down his throat and into his shirt. Every time the boy coughs, Bruce fears that blood will spill from his mouth next.

He breathes in shakily, and swerves around a left corner. The boy moves with the momentum. Bruce throws his arm out to catch him, and keep him in his seat, the boy jerks, and grunts quietly.

Guilt turns the back of Bruce's neck red. That, and embarrassment. "...Apologies." He murmurs, retracting his hand quickly. Daniel blinks slowly, Bruce nervously keeps an eye on the unsteady rise and fall of his chest.

He's pulled away when, much to his surprise, the boy smiles. It's weak, barely even there and trembling like the rest of him, but glazed in fondness. "S'ok'y." Daniel mumbles, blood sticking to his mouth as he slumps back into the corner. "M'dad drove the same way."

...There were a lot of questions there. But the hurting, discomforting squeeze of Bruce's heart turns his tongue to lead. His throat swells shut, grows a cancerous lump, and keeps his lungs thick. "..Hh."

(What does he say to that?)

A silence, ugly, falls over them again for a few minutes more. Bruce should keep the boy talking -- it's confirmation that Daniel was still alive, still breathing, Bruce hasn't failed yet -- and yet, he can't think of a single thing to say.

They're coming close up on the cemetery, Bruce turns down the road leading to it. His eyes flick to Daniel again. The boy is staring at him, the sickly yellow streetlights catching shadows on his face, leaving a glow lingering in his eyes.

(In his lazy eye, his mind tricks him into seeing a corpse. Bruce suppresses a flinch, and looks over again.)

(Daniel is still breathing. Good. Good. Good.)

He breathes in shakily, something dark and angry rearing its head once again. Who does this? Who does this? He grits his teeth, biting back the scowl pulling on his face.

("You're a hero, right?")

(No, but for now he can pretend he is.)

----

They end up in a tunnel somewhere. Danny's not quite sure where, but the road gets bumpy and the uncomfortable, rough jostling brings a groan out from him. His eyes pound in their sockets, the discomfort ricocheting to this temples and circling to the back of his head.

His head lolls, and Danny shoves it back against the seat with a thud, ignoring the dull pain it rings through his skull. "Are w'there yet?" He asks, blood spilling into his mouth that he tiredly tries to spit out. He's done with drinking it instead.

The numbness he'd been so graciously left with was starting to fade now, returning back to a burning, rhythmic soreness spreading through his limbs. It clustered up around his joints, feeling like pins and needles in his fingers and down his spine.

Bat-man guy grunts shortly, shifts the gearshift into a new position, and glances over to him for the nth time that night. "Almost."

Almost. Almost was... good? Probably. Hopefully. Danny doesn't give a response, just nods mutely.

The car comes to a stop some minutes later, parked in a wide open space with LED lights spread erratically through the floor that hurt Danny's eyes.

Bat-Man barely has the car in park before he's flying out of his side. If Danny didn't know better, he'd have thought the man had phased right through the metal. That's not what happened, and he watches the guy zip around the front of the car to his side.

He's barely understood that he's even gotten out of the car before Bat-Man has Danny's door open. He jolts involuntarily, sitting lame in his seat as Bat-Man gets him unbuckled and pulled out of the car.

The lights are still painfully bright in Danny's eyes as Bat-Man pulls him out, and he whines involuntarily, tilting his face inward to hide it against the armor-weave.

"--sleep at a reasonable-- dear god! What happened!?"

Oh, forget the lights. Danny turns his head and braces against the brightness -- and his tilting, whorling sight -- to see who else was here. He sees an older man with a cane standing near one of the tables.

"His godfather poisoned him." Bat-Man growls, Danny nods heavily. "I need my antidote kit. Alfred, I need you to stay by him, make sure he doesn't start choking if he throws up."

The older man -- Alfred? Scoffs, and when Bat-Man passes by he follows after him. "As if you need to ask me. But where do you even plan on putting him?"

Without answering, Bat-Man shifts Danny until he's being held in one arm, and then approaches a metal table covered in nuts, bolts, and half-finished gadgets and gizmos. Without blinking, Bat-Man uses his free arm to shove it all off the table with a crashing, clattering, banging sound.

Then he lays Danny down.

The metal is freezing, sinking through the fabric of his jacket and shirt, and Danny turns his head to watch Bat-Man. In the process, he catches a glimpse at Alfred's expression -- and the sheer exasperated affront written on his face forces a laugh out of him.

Bat-Man's hands still from where they're tilting him onto his side, and Danny covers his mouth with his hand to stifle his giggling. "Sorry." He says, trying to catch his breath. "th'look on his face was funny."

The Alfred man sends a look at the Bat-Man when he glances at him, one eyebrow arched, before stepping over as Bat-Man gets Danny full on his side. Bat-Man disappears down somewhere, his footsteps echoing through the room.

"I hope he knows that he'll be picking all of this up when we're done, because I am certainly not." Alfred says stiffly, procuring a pristine handkerchief out of thin air. One of those nice looking ones that are probably made of like, butterfly silk.

Danny almost smiles, but Alfred starts reaching for his face, so instead he suppresses a flinch. There's a pause, before Alfred's hand glides over his cheek. Despite the callous padding on his palm, his touch is resoundingly gentle.

He cups Danny's jaw, and starts wiping the blood from his face.

...Oh.

Danny blinks uncomprehendingly up at him. He hasn't felt an actual affectionate touch in months. Vlad tried to be, but every touch to Danny's skin felt oily; disgusting. Danny wanted to scrub at the spot every time he pulled away.

So this was like warm sunlight on his face, and he hums low and pleasantly. "Tha'feels nice." He mumbles, relaxing unconsciously.

"I would hope so, young man." Alfred-guy says, folding his already blood-stained handkerchief in half for a cleaner square and moving to clean the blood from his throat. "All this blood couldn't have felt pleasant."

No, no, Danny thinks slowly, not that part.

"May I ask for your name?" Alfred asks before Danny can correct him. "It's not every night that the young master brings someone back with him."

Danny stares. "Danny." He says, "Mnh... just Danny. M'godfath'r calls me Daniel, an' he poisoned me."

Alfred nods, and pulls his handkerchief away. It was stained right through with blood. Danny cringes with shame. That probably won't come out. "I wish we were meeting on better circumstances, Mister Danny. It's a pleasure to meet you."

His good midwestern manners kicks in, and Danny nods curtly. HIs head spins in revenge for the movement. "Y'too, sir."

Bat-Man reappears in that moment, clearing off a space on the table across from them with a kit of various bottles and vials and other doodads that Danny's too unfocused to recognize.

He watches him yank off the vambraces wrapped around his arms, and then the gloves on both his hands. Alfred brushes the hair off his forehead, gathering Danny's attention again.

"If you don't mind, how did you two meet?" He asks, Bat-Man glances over his shoulder at them both, but says nothing. There's a clattering of bottles before he bounds off again down a tunnel. Danny takes that as his sign to explain instead.

"All'y." Danny says, shifting when the pressure on his shoulder grew too uncomfortable. His stomach flips, and he freezes in place to breathe in slow. He swallows dryly when the nausea passes. "Um-- I w'z runnin' from Vlad, an' I saw him in one 'f the alleyways."

Bat-Man reappears again with more things, and starts messing around with his collection of bottles and tubes and whatever -- probably to fix an antidote.

...Would he even be able to make one? Fuck, Danny hadn't thought of that. Blood Blossoms interact with him differently.

He forcibly keeps his breathing even, and zeroes in on Alfred. "I thou' he was a hero, n' I was right. He is." He smiles, and Alfred's expression softens out.

Danny breathes in sharp, pain ricocheting up his spine. "He's-- mine, at least."

I am loudly pushing the batdad agenda i am loudly pushing the— DPxDC Prompt

“Woah. You look like shit."

Granted, that’s probably not the first thing Danny should be saying to the guy that just bit the curb, but in his defense; he’s not running on 100% right now either.

The man -- tall, towering, and broader than Danny is tall -- whips around on his heel, black frayed cape flaring out impressively. Danny would've whistled in appreciation, but he takes the time instead to wipe the back of his hand across his mouth, smearing the blood running from his nose across his cheek.

"Sorry." He blinks widely, not even flinching as the man with the horns zeroes in on him. "That was rude of me. I have a really bad brain-to-mouth filter; Sam says its what always gets me into trouble."

And she's not wrong either, per say. His smart mouth is what landed him in this situation -- with blood blossom extract running through his veins and cannibalizing the ectoplasm in his bloodstream. Thanks Vlad.

The man grunts at him; a short, curt "hm" that shouldn't make Danny smile, but he does because he's somewhat delirious and probably concussed. The man keeps some kind of distance, sinking towards the shadows of Gotham's alleyway like he dares to melt right into it.

If it's supposed to scare Danny, it doesn't work. Danny's never been afraid of the dark; he's always been able to hide himself in it. He blinks slowly at the mass of shadows.

"You look hurt." The shadows says, blurring together around the edges. Danny squints, and licks his lips to get the blood dripping down his chin off. Ugh, he hates the taste of blood.

"I am." He says, "My godfather poisoned me. M'dying." The agony of the blood blossom eating him from the inside out looped back around to numbing a while ago, so all he feels is half-awake and dazed.

"Hey," Danny stumbles forward towards the man, a bloodied hand reaching out to him. "You-- you're a hero, right? You're not attacking me; which is more than I can say for most costumed people I've met." Maybe it's a poor bar to judge someone at, but he's already established that Danny's not in his right mind.

The man makes no change in expression, but Danny realizes blearily that it's hard to tell with the shadows on his face. He stays still long enough for Danny to latch onto the cape -- stretchy, but almost soft under his fingers.

He looks up blearily into the whites of the man's eyes. "Can you help me? I don't-- I don't wanna die." Again. He doesn't wanna die again. He blinks slow and lizard-like. "I mean- I'll probably get to see mom and dad again, but I told them I'd at least try and make it to adulthood."

There's a clatter down the street, and Danny's ghost sense chills up his spine and leaves a bitter, ashy taste in his mouth. He immediately knows who it belongs to even before the deceptively gentle; "Daniel?" echoes down the way.

"Daniel? Quit your games, badger, Gotham is dangerous for children."

Danny's mouth pulls back, and blood spills against his tongue. "Please." He rasps, and grabs onto the shadow's cape with both hands. "Please. He's going to kill me. Please--"

"Daniel? Is that you?"

His lips part, dragging in air to plead with the darkness again. He doesn't need to, the whites of his eyes narrow, and the cape whirls around him before Danny can blink. Soon swaddled in shadows, the Night lifts him up, and steals him away.

[hershey-not-the-chocolate-maybe]

I've been trying to be social past few days by going to stuff and no it did NOT help instead i drained all my energy and had to sleep it off .

[hallasimss]

new desktop theme who dis

[peachsukii]

— emergency contact

it’s been two years since you’ve seen your ex-boyfriend, and didn’t plan on changing that anytime soon. a nasty villain fight lands you in the hospital during an overnight patrol and leaves you unable to tell the doctors who to call in your dazed state.

✮ content. late 20s. ex-boyfriend bakugo, hospitalization, sappy confessions & second chances. distance makes the heart grow fonder kind of deal.

『 #reis softie sundays 』

Sharp, shooting pain down your back and a desperate cry from your partner ⎯ that was the only thing you remember from the last…four hours? Time is becoming illusive at this point, blending together with how fast everything unraveled around you.

Were you injured on patrol? Did that villain slip through your fingers and escape? Where was your partner in all this chaos?

“Doctor, she’s waking up,” you hear in the distance, muffled but clear enough to understand. A nurse walks into your blurred vision, a soft smile on her lips. “Hi hon, you’re in the hospital. We’re taking you to your room now, hang tight.”

All you can manage to do is nod in acknowledgement, the world spinning on its axis and making you extremely dizzy. Your eyes fall closed, a hazy sleep welcoming you in seconds.

When you wake next, you're not quite sure how much time has passed. The room sits in darkness, the only sources of light coming from the moon outside the window and the various machines chirping around you. There's a static in your head, as if you're stuck on a radio frequency that hasn't been adjusted to the correct channel. Even with all the noise in your head, a familiar voice can be heard outside in the hallway, one you'd never mistake for anyone else.

"It's late," a nurse says, presumably trying to convince him to go home. "Are you sure you want to stay? We can try her other contacts again in a few hours."

"M'sure. Do I need'ta sign in or whatever?"

"No, that's alright. I'll notate it on her chart and let the front desk know. I'll be back in a bit and we can talk more about treatment."

The door slides open to prove you're not imagining things ⎯ your ex isn't a manifestation of your delirious state. Bakugo's standing in the dim light of the hallway, tip toeing inside and shutting the door as quietly as possible. When his eyes fall upon your hospital bed, he notices that you're awake and sighs. "Been awhile."

You don't have the energy to do this dance with him, to go back and forth with lightheartedness like old times. "Why are you here?"

His lips press into a straight line, jaw clenched tight as he seems to silently ask himself the same question. He makes his way over to the bed, taking a seat at the edge by your feet. "I'm still one of your emergency contacts in your hero file."

Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. There's no way you haven't updated your database profile in two years...right? Bakugo catches onto your confusion and explains before you have a chance to press him further on the matter. "M'the only one who answered."

What time was it, anyways? Your eyes bounce around the room swiftly to find a wall clock. You squint a bit to read it, finally making out the numbers. 4:30...am?

"What did they call you for?" you yawn, rubbing the exhaustion out of your eyes. "I don't even know what happened."

He takes a deep breath as a large hand finds your thigh, resting atop the thin blanket. His touch makes you want to melt into a puddle, memories of your past relationship coming back in waves.

"They didn't tell me much, only that it was life or death. Thankfully, your ass chose life." He shakes his head, a quiet huff escaping him. "Somethin' about a villain's poison quirk. Ya got hit in the spine and it paralyzed you temporarily, an' you fell from someplace high up. Your partner caught ya and the paramedics got to you just in time."

Oh. Well, that explains the pain from earlier.

"But why did you answer their call, Baku⎯" you cut yourself off to correct his name as it leaves your lips. "Katsuki?"

"I'm not heartless, just 'cause we haven't talked in ages doesn't mean I don't care about ya."

You shift in your bed a bit, eyes gravitating toward the window to avoid his gaze. Truth be told, you two ended on decent terms and not maliciously. Wrong place, wrong time...at least, that's what you two chalked it up to. You were both too busy with hero work, too absent from each other's lives to properly be a couple. After a year, you convinced yourself that you were satisfied watching him from afar, catching brief glimpses of his life through interviews and news reports. That was your excuse, a cowardly way to keep him out of reach and prevent you, and him, from getting distracted.

"Hey." Bakugo's fingers squeeze your thigh to recollect your attention, the blanket crumpling under his palm. You're terrified to look at him, knowing full well that in your battered state, you'll crumble like stone if he says anything remotely sweet. Those vermillion eyes of his always had a way of making you weak ⎯ soft. "I was thinkin' on my way over here that I should'a called ya, reached out to keep in touch. M'sorry for not doin' that."

"It's...fine," you stammer out, a shaky hand coming up to wave off his concern. "We don't have to talk about that now."

"I don't wanna only talk to you when you're hurt, or worse..." he trails off, screwing his eyes shut to avoid the dread lingering in his chest. "Look. What m'gettin' at is you scared the shit outta me, and it made me realize that I've got a lot to say after all these years."

Oh boy, you brace yourself for impact, expecting the explosive nature to come pouring out any second. But, it never comes.

Before you could stop him, Bakugo's on his feet and leaning over the bed, arms slung around your shoulders to pull you close. A strange but familiar veil of comfort drapes over you in the moment, pulling on your heartstrings. Your eyes begin to sting when the words he whispers finally reach your ears. "M'done usin' hero work as an excuse to avoid you. I wanna talk this shit out...when you're ready. I'd love to make ya dinner again."

You can't help but let out a breathless laugh, arms finally coming up to return his hug. "Only if you promise to make your special katsudon. I've been craving it for weeks."

He chuckles over your shoulder, squeezing you a bit tighter in response. "Deal."

Who knew that a villain was what you two needed to face your fears, to finally admit that the spark was never smothered into nothingness. And this time, something tells you that you'll both make damn sure it stays ablaze.

happy softie sunday!! I know it's been awhile since I've written one. hope you don't mind some baku-sap :)

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