#being childhood hometown friends with history

[bixels]

I'm obsessed with your rarijack post. I would love to hear your thoughts on flutterdash. That one was always my favorite but rainbow was often a victim of the new writers not understanding her and writing her weirdly

SHE SOLD HER INTO SLAVERY!

[hirookouji]

u can tell a lot abt a person by finding out their headcanons of kuroo n daishou's relationships in middle school, high school, n college

[ddarker-dreams]

mini love report — chrollo lucilfer

relationship health diagnosis — 70%*

symptom one — perceptive

this man is an information sponge. he notices everything. as a thief, he's accustomed to canvassing his surroundings. he'll have memorized the layout of your home by the second visit. it isn't for any nefarious purpose (probably), he's just always taking in information and cataloging it.

naturally, this sagacity extends to you. the normal cadence of your voice, mannerisms, favored words, and expressions; he'll know if something's bothering you before you realize it yourself. he isn't above using this knowledge of you for his own purposes. he'll gauge your body language and shift his approach to contentious topics. this is a lifelong habit of his that's difficult to break.

chrollo knows what people want to hear and he's used to utilizing that advantage. however, if you point this out, he'll try curbing the behavior. especially if you stress that it's his actual opinion you want to hear, not specially curated platitudes. he finds your desire for a candid approach almost... impressive? you'd rather disagree with his unfiltered thoughts than gloss over anything touchy. it bolsters his respect for you.

symptom two — enigmatic

there's a noticeable difference in what you know about each another. he knows the names of your co-workers, friends, and family members, as well as your hometown, job or school, etc... you can't say the same regarding him. he keeps his origins ambiguous. the way he frames his upbringing makes you feel guilty should you go prying. chrollo will tell you that he's an orphan who had a rough, destitute childhood, but that's about it. he could easily make up a story, but he doesn't like lying to you. he doesn't want the version of him that you love to be a false construct.

yes, there's the technicality of lying by omission. he doesn't get caught up on that detail.

symptom three — a lil lame

interestingly enough, the suave part of his brain starts acting up when he's known you long enough. this isn't to say that he loses his charm, but it stops being his go-to. now he just nerds out (he prefers the term 'discusses') whatever's caught his attention. there's this gleam in his eyes as he tells you about the history of a painting or antique, a childlike awe. he isn't elaborating to impress you with his knowledge, rather, he enjoys sharing his interests. especially since you care, you aren't just humoring him.

chrollo's emotions come out naturally when he's near you. it's subtle — a twitch of his eye if someone cuts you off, a light blush should you murmur his name while asleep. these simple forms of self-expression are foreign to him. he's used to playing roles, not the aftermath once the stage's curtains close. his corporeal form was all the evidence he had that he existed. lacking a sense of self invokes this numb, hollow feeling. you're his new, favorite proof that he's alive. his world's brighter with you in it.

primary area of concern

objectively speaking, chrollo's an ideal lover. he respects, cherishes, and admires you, altercations are rare. should disagreements occur, he never raises his voice or displays aggression. he'll hear you out and apologize should he feel he's in the wrong. he takes you out on dates, stares at you as if you were divinity incarnate whether you're wearing pajamas or a formal outfit. he's whipped and you both know it.

it's his immortality that keeps his score from being higher. he wouldn't ever hurt you, but his compassion for others is nonexistent. this unsightly side of him is hidden from your sight. at the end of the day, he's a murderer who experiences zero remorse for the pain he's inflicted upon others. he leads a double life. you won't ever completely know him.

selfishly, he doesn't want you to.

prognosis

everything hinges on chrollo preventing you from finding out about his illicit activities. luckily for him, subterfuge is his second nature. he rarely stresses about it. he has the manpower and resources necessary to make just about anything happen. if you're a civilian, the chances you'll uncover his identity on your own are next to nonexistent.

your future together is a priority to him — he doesn't take commitment lightly. you're likely the first person he's fallen in love with. if you'd have him, he'd want nothing more than to be your lifelong partner. marriage is a tradition he's never given much credence to. although, after meeting you, he understands the appeal. now it's a matter of finding a ring that matches your radiance...

*the universe has tried (and failed) to wrench you apart (0-20) your friends are praying that you'll break up (21-40) 'well it could/has be worse' bargaining mindset (41-60) a lil messiness as a treat (61-80) pure and wholesome (81-100)

[patito-oward]

Always Been You

masterlist

Prompt: And the other is about how Pato falls in love with the reader, just how he says "oh yeah she's THE ONE"

since this prompt was pretty vague I took a lot of liberties with it, but I still hope you like it :)

Summary: After being dumped by his long term girlfriend, Pato realizes everything he’s ever wanted in a relationship has been right in front of him

WC: 4.1k

It happened very suddenly. Here’s the thing, Pato didn’t mean for it to happen at all. On the list of things he had planned for the year, this was definitely not on it. A 500 win? Definitely. A championship? Yep. Extending his contract with Mclaren? Right again. But starting the off season by being dumped by his long term girlfriend and realizing he’s in love with his best friend was not anywhere in his mind.

It all started at the last race of the season, Pato was leading the championship, and granted he got a podium on this race he would finally have his championship victory. To celebrate and support, almost everyone he knew came to Nashville. Pato rented out a block of rooms at a hotel, and one of the many people who showed up for him was his childhood best friend, YN.

So maybe it all started in 2008, when YN and Pato were in second grade and met on the playground at recess. YN was sitting on the swings reading a book when Pato approached her, he was new to San Antonio and didn’t have any friends, and wanted to know if they could be friends. From then on the two were inseparable. Pato was a daredevil at heart, and would often hurt himself, and YN would take the delicate time of walking him to the school nurse and kissing his injuries better. Pato always made YN laugh, and made sure she was never sad, no matter what happened in YN’s life, Pato was there everyday to make her smile.

As they got older their relationship changed, it lost a little bit of their childish innocence, but they grew so much closer. YN was at Pato’s first win in karting, and she was more excited than he was. When YN’s childhood dog died, Pato was at her house at 6:00 AM and spent the whole day with her, trying to cheer her up. They’d even started their own holiday traditions, every year on Christmas Eve, the two of them spent the day making cookies together and exchanged presents. YN had practically become family, she didn’t have the best home life, and the entire O’Ward family was so loving that she ended up spending more time with them than her actual family.

The two dated for a few months in eighth grade, and were each other’s first kiss, but when Pato began racing for F4 and was in France every weekend the two agreed it was best they just stayed friends. Since then that is all they had been, things in YN’s home got significantly worse as they went through high school and despite whatever Pato may have felt, he knew she needed his friendship and wasn’t willing to risk their relationship.

With Pato coming up through Indycar and YN being a full time student and having a job, it was easy to assume the two would drift after high school, that was never the case. They still saw each other everytime Pato was in Texas and Pato made sure YN made a couple of races every year. She remained his biggest supporter as he went from her hometown best friend to the most popular driver in Indycar.

Fast forward to now, things were going pretty perfect for Pato. He finally won the 500, he’s about to win the championship, and he’s got a great girlfriend, Maria. He figures he’ll marry her, he does love her, she’s supportive and nice and insanely hot. They’ve been dating for over a year and things have been going really well. The only time they’ve ever really fought is over YN, when she found out there was a “history” between them, and in hindsight Pato realizes maybe he should’ve told her sooner, but he never really thought about it. Yeah they’d dated for a few months a lifetime ago, but she’s always just been his YN, he doesn’t even think of her like that anymore. YN was one of the most sure things in his life, and sure for awhile he always thought what if?, but that was in the past.

All that being said, he didn’t think twice about inviting her to Nashville to watch him possibly win the championship. YN wasn’t able to make it to the 500, or any other race this year, and he wished she was there. She knew more than anyone how much this had meant to him, coming up after losses she was always the person he went to, and he wanted her to see him now that it had all been worth it. YN was reluctant to come, but after a lot of begging from Pato she agreed.

Thursday night he made sure everyone he invited out came to dinner with him at a steakhouse. There were 20 people at the restaurant, but Pato ended up with Maria sitting next to him and YN sitting across next to Elba. Maybe Pato should’ve realized it, the tension in her shoulders and how Maria’s smile tightened as he laughed at YN’s jokes, but he didn’t. So Maria sat there all night, and she really tried to be understanding, but she felt as if she was third-wheeling her own relationship. She had to listen to a million inside jokes she didn’t understand, and watch as his family fawned over YN.

It was at that dinner she realized that she’d spent a year dating a taken man. Pato was too good of a man, she knew he wasn’t doing it on purpose, but it became undeniable. As she watched him, she realized everything she felt for him, he felt for the woman across the table. At first she felt possessive, the need to prove that he was her partner, and that no matter what he’d chosen her over YN, but as time passed she felt less possessive and realized that there was no way to continue the relationship. It wasn’t fair to her, she deserved a man who loved her and only her, and Pato deserved to be with the person he loves.

After the dinner, they headed back to the hotel where Pato, who was utterly clueless of her realization, continued to be the perfect man, only making it so much harder for Maria to leave. She didn’t know how long she should let it go on for, if she broke things off now would she be getting in his head and ruining the weekend for him? Would continuing a relationship she’s already checking out of be just as cruel? Could she stand the rest of the weekend watching her boyfriend making heart eyes at another woman?

After sleeping on it, or rather not sleeping very much at all, she’d come to the conclusion that a clean break was best for everyone. They ordered breakfast to the room and as they sat at the small dinette she knew she had to bring it up.

Pato was halfway done with his breakfast, but she hadn’t eaten much at all, mostly just pushing her food around with her fork. “Pato, I think we need to talk.”

It’s rare that she’s this serious, and Pato knows that can’t be good, his silverware clatters as he sets it down and looks up at her. “Uh oh, what’s wrong?”

She hesitates for a moment, not knowing the best way to start the conversation. “It’s YN.”

Pato’s shocked, he doesn’t know what he expected but it wasn’t that, “What about YN?”

She figures there’s no reason to beat around the bush, “You’re in love with her.”

Pato’s a lot of things, surprised for sure, but also shockingly defensive and angry. “What? Babe, that’s ridiculous. I know you were upset about us in middle school, but I swear there’s nothing going on! I would never even think about cheating on you!”

She rested her hand on top of his, “I know you would never cheat on me, and I know you said there’s nothing and I believe you, but I saw the way you looked at her, and how she fit into your life, and it makes so much sense because you love her.”

Pato doesn’t really know what to say to that, “I love you.”

“But you are in love with her. Listen I love you, Pato, and you’re such a good man, but it’s not fair to either of us to continue this relationship. Not when your heart clearly isn’t in it.” Maria struggles over her words, voice cracking and eyes watering, but a soft smile is on her face as she says them.

“Are you saying what I think you are? You’re just giving up?”

“Pato, I’m letting you free, tell her how you feel, you deserve that kind of love.”

And maybe what she’s saying finally resonates with him because the best thing he says is, “I never meant to hurt you.”

She lets out a broken laugh at that, a single tear rolling down her face, “Oh, Pato, you never could, we aren’t meant for each other, but we still had a lot of fun, right?” He nods at her.

After that she’s on a plane and back to her home before he knows it. Pato’s sad, he feels a little empty, someone who had been such a big part in his life just walked out leaving the biggest mess in her wake. He thought about her words, but shook them off. He loved YN, of course he did, but it wasn’t like that, she was like a sister to him.

Although it’s not his sister he messages asking if she wants to come over. YN is at his hotel room within a minute of him sending the “you busy?” text. YN asks where Maria is, but all he has to say is “gone.” and YN knows to drop it.

YN knows him better than anyone, knows that he has an irrational fear of being destined to fail at every relationship. She knows he has never actually broken up with a girl, only ever been broken up with, and she knows he spent over two years single because he was afraid of being hurt. But she also knows that there’s no way anyone could spend more than an hour with him and not be in love with him, God knows she is.

It’s the way he knows her, inside and out, but it’s also the way he makes everyone around him laugh, and spends hours interacting with his fans to make them all happy, and how caring he is with animals and babies. YN is only human, how is she supposed to feel when her insanely attractive best friend is doting over her niece?

YN puts it all aside because she’s his best friend first, she’d made that promise to herself a long time ago and she’s always kept it. She sits with him and watches Friends reruns with him, he’ll talk when he wants to, but until then she’ll be by his side.

They don’t end up talking, the one good channel the hotel room has switches from Friends to Modern Family, and then Pato has to go practice. A quick google search helps her find the best tacos in Nashville, so while he’s gone she runs out to get them dinner. They had dinner plans with his parents and Elba, but YN texted Elba long ago to let her know that plans were changing. He’s a superstar, so of course he doesn’t let his life affect him and it still the fastest person in the first practice, YN thinks that’s a good sign.

When he returns he seems to be a little better, talking to YN about track conditions over their dinner. YN has had enough of waiting for Pato to bring it up, and she can tell he’s feeling better, so she has to work up the courage to ask him what happened.

“Are you going to tell me what happened with Maria or am I supposed to guess?”

His smile drops, turning into one that’s much smaller and forced. “She just left.”

“No explanation? She just woke up and was gone?”

“Oh, she had an explanation but it was bullshit. She probably just got tired of me, it's no big deal.”

YN furrows her brows at that. “Pato stop it, you’re so great anyone would be so lucky to be with you. Maybe there was some merit behind what she said.”

“Well she said I was in love with you, but I told her so many times we’re just friends and that’s all we’ll ever be.”

YN’s stomach sinks at that, it’s not like she expected him to confess his love, but he didn’t need to friendzone her that hard. “Oh.” Is all she can think to say.

“I mean you’re great, but you’re like a sister to me!”

YN forces out a laugh, “Right.” She also can’t help but feel like maybe it’s her fault this all happened, was her pining really that obvious? “Well then, she’s stupid for leaving because she’s not going to find anyone better.”

Pato’s smile is genuine for the first time since the conversation started, “Thank you, you’re the best friend I could’ve asked for.”

“Right, and don’t forget that when you’re trying to figure out what to do with all your championship earnings.”

He lets out a real laugh at that, a stark contrast to how mopey he’d been the rest of the day. “One, greedy, and two, I’m not buying you anything else. I'm tired of you getting mad when I spend money on you.”

“Pato, a graduation gift is fifty bucks, not a two thousand dollar tennis bracelet.”

He leans back in his seat and shrugs, smirking as he says, “Yet I’ve never seen you not wearing the bracelet.”

YN’s eyes go to her wrist where, sure enough, the bracelet was, just like everyday for the past three years. When Pato gave her the bracelet she refused to take it, saying it was too much and he needed to return it. After arguing for ten minutes she thought he’d finally agreed to take the bracelet back, but found it later sitting on her dresser. “What can I say? You have good taste.”

The rest of the night mirrored the morning, but had a much different tone, the two of them sat sprawled out on the couch quoting the episodes of Friends that were on, having seen them so many times they were known by heart.

When YN went to her own hotel room Pato realized how empty the place felt again, something he hadn’t noticed all day. He chose not to think too hard about how effortlessly YN took up space in his life.

The next morning, Pato had already scheduled to have everyone meet in the lobby so he could take them to the track for the day. YN had clearly told everyone about Maria because despite some odd looks no one asked about her and he was grateful for that. He didn’t think twice when everyone began to split into different cars and he pulled YN along with him, or when they arrived at the track and Pato sent most people up into a suite, but brought YN and his immediate family to the pits. Maybe that’s how it’s always been, and how it’s supposed to be.

Pato gets swept up in work for the rest of the day and YN gets to spend some real time with her second family. As soon as they’re alone, Elba doesn’t hesitate to start interrogating her.

“What happened with Maria?”

“Apparently she told Pato he’s in love with me and just left.” YN shrugs as she says it, still a little puzzled by the whole thing.

“Huh.”

“What? No ‘huh’ I know what that means just tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I just thought Maria knew by now and didn’t care, maybe she’s not as smart as I gave her credit for.”

“What do you mean? Knew what?”

“Come on, YN, Pato’s been in love with you since you were nine, I wouldn’t want to be dating him.”

YN is struggling to process what she’s hearing, and automatically turns to deflection. “He is not.”

“Oh my god.” Elba starts giggling maniacally.

YN has no clue what could be funny, “What!?”

“You’re in love with him too!”

“I am not!” Despite her refusal, YN can feel and Elba can see the heat rising up her neck.

“You totally are! All this time I thought you had to know it’s so obvious, I mean, he follows you around like a puppy, but you had no idea!”

“Ok, keep your voice down.” YN puts her hand over Elba’s mouth really not wanting anyone else to hear their conversation. “Even if I did like him, and I’m not saying I do, he does not feel the same. I mean you should’ve heard how hard he friendzoned me yesterday.”

Elba looks sympathetic then, “Babe, I think my brother has spent so long denying himself what he wants he doesn’t even know what that is anymore. I love him dearly, but relationships are not his strong suit.”

“Then I guess we’re at a stalemate because I am certainly not going to be the one to ruin our friendship.”

Elba’s exasperated, “Oh my god, you two are exhausting!”

By the time Elba finished her intervention, qualifying finished resulting in Pato getting the pole. Mclaren has been dominant the last few weekends, and this weekend is no different with all three cars in the fast six. Pato is in the driver’s lot, getting ready to head back to the hotel, everyone else had dispersed from the track, and Felix has tracked down Pato and is calling after him.

“Hey, Felix! What’s up?”

“Bro, you’re about to win this fucking thing.” There’s nothing but excitement from Felix for his best friend.

“I know, I just hope tomorrow is a clean race and we can bring this thing home.”

“You’ve got this, I know it. Hey, where’s Maria been all day?” Felix says it like he’s just realizing she’s not around.

“Who knows. Yesterday morning she woke up determined that I’m secretly in love with YN and got on the next plane out.”

“So you guys are done?”

“Yeah about as done as you can be.”

“And YN?”

“YN is my best friend.”

“No, I'm your best friend.”

“Sorry, Fro, even you lose to YN.”

“I don’t want to win what YN is winning.”

Pato rolls his eyes and stomps his foot, huffing, “And what exactly is YN winning?”

Felix puts his hands up in self-defense, “Listen, all I’m saying is if you looked at me like you do YN, I think Emille would feel threatened.”

“Very funny.” Pato kicks the ground, staring at his shoe, he thinks about his relationship with Felix versus his with YN, sure it’s different, but him and YN have so much history. “Look, I don’t know what I feel for YN, but I don’t care either because she’s too important as a friend for me to lose her.”

“Mate you’ve been practically dating for years, I don’t think making it official will ruin anything.”

With that last piece of advice Felix takes off, leaving Pato alone with his thoughts. The whole drive back to the hotel and the rest of the night he spent thinking about YN. If everyone closest to him is saying one thing, how could they all be wrong? He thinks about everything they’ve been through together.

His first win in karting when she was the first person he ran to when he got out of the car; how she comes to every family reunion and often traveled to Mexico to spend time with his family; their senior prom when she was sad about not having a date, but she was the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen that night; except for Christmas mornings when she’s in her pajamas and he gets to watch her eyes light up as they answer presents together. Maybe it’s been in front of him all along. What’s been missing from all of his other relationships has been right there.

It’s a lot to take in, but it doesn’t really matter because, like he told Felix, he wouldn’t risk their friendship if she doesn’t feel the same. He can handle a trail of failed relationships, but he could never handle losing YN. He went to bed that night knowing he had to just focus on the race and on bringing home the championship.

The next morning he’s awoken by a knock on the door. “Patricio! Open up, room service!”

He knows who’s behind the door before he opens it, there’s only one person who cares enough to bring him breakfast. When he lets YN in he sees the bag full of takeout food from a nearby diner. “Breakfast of champions, for the champion.”

Of course she’s already decided he’s a champion before the race. No one has ever believed in him as much as her. “Calm down, I don't want you to jinx me.”

“Au contraire my friend, a jinx would mean you’re winning by luck, and you are winning by sheer talent.”

It always amazes him how smart she is in the morning, he knows no more than 5 words for a solid hour after waking up, and she’s always speaking a million words a minute. “7AM is too early to be speaking another language.”

“Aw, pobrecito, ¿estás cansado?” She knew very minimal spanish, but had picked some up from time spent with his family, and used it pretty exclusively to tease him.

“You’re so not funny my brain hurts.” He is slouched over the table with his head resting on his arms.

She begins to unpack the food in front of him, “Alright, come on, time to wake up you’ve got a big day.”

The smell of eggs and bacon is what gets him to lift his head and start eating. He tries not to focus on the fact that she got him exactly what he eats every race day because that’s a can of worms he doesn’t want to touch. Regardless he eats the meal, and is sad when she pulls out her pancakes and begins to eat with him. She offers him a bite which he takes, but they both know he won’t eat any more than that because he doesn’t like big meals before a race.

After they finish, YN starts picking up their trash and Pato thanks her, “You take such good care of me, can’t believe you brought me breakfast I’m not worthy.” She’s glad for her back being turned to him because she can feel how much she’s blushing.

The rest of the day goes by in a blur, leave it to YN to be the eye in his hurricane, bringing calm before the storm. The race was close, a shitty pit stop meant Pato had to make some big passes to make up position, but Pato ended up pulling away with the final race win of the season and the championship.

YN and Elba leave the suite a few laps early so they can be on pit lane when he gets the win. After his victory lap and celebratory donuts he pulls into pit lane. Immediately his crew is flooding around him as he struggles to get out. Once he does there’s a giant group hug around Pato. Rossi and Fro also both make their way to his pits to congratulate him.

When Felix pulls Pato into a hug he whispers into his ear, “Why haven’t you gone to your girl yet, she’s waiting for you.”

Felix’s words had weight to them, all these people were surrounding him, but none of them had been on this journey with him as long as her. She waited for him for the last 15 years while he chased a career and different women, and now he’s at the peak of his career, having everything he ever wanted, and she’s not the one by his side. It hits him like a ton of bricks how bad he wants her to be the one celebrating this win with him, and every win for the rest of his life. Walking over to YN he pulls her into a hug, hoping that everything he’s feeling can be conveyed through the touch.

YN is in his ear, “I’m so proud of you, I always knew you could do it.”

He can’t find the right words, so all he says is, “I’m so glad you’re here.” he’ll explain later.

Holding her in front of thousands of people, Pato isn’t scared of losing their friendship anymore. He’s not sure of a lot, but he knows they’ll be ok, and that he’s loved her since before he knew what love was.

[ink-splotch]

More a Haunting than a History - Version 2.0!!

an (updated!) interactive fiction game from E. Jade Lomax (ink-splotch / dirgewithoutmusic), the writer who brought you Beanstalk, Second Star to the Left podcast, and Stay?. "Return to your sleepy, strange little hometown after years away. Explore your old haunts, reconnect with old friends and new, and dig into the mysteries that rise up in the town like mist. It's a story about leaving home and coming home; about life after death-- in more ways than one. This choose-your-own-adventure game lets you explore who you used to be so that you can decide who you want to be."

More a Haunting than a History is my second IF (interactive fiction) game, a story about returning to your childhood small town and finding both it and yourself different than you left them.

Version 2.0 is cleaner, stronger, with new content and a trophy system! If you've already explored MAHTAH, dive back in to see what's new to find, experience, or break-- if you haven't given MAHTAH a chance yet, I'd love it if you gave the new & improved version a try!

PLAY IT HERE:

In version 2.0, I made three main changes, as well as various bug fixes (thanks everyone who wrote me about bugs!):

Updated the dialogue system to make for smoother, less awkward conversations-- dialogue being the main gameplay mechanism!

Streamlined the dreams & climax/river scene systems to improve the narrative experience (ensure certain backstory content got seen/emphasized/excluded as relevant)

Introduced a trophy system (more details on the why of this under the cut)

MAHTAH was both a blast and a slog to write, just like Stay? was a rush -- I'd love to hear your thoughts, feelings, and experiences as I start chipping away at my next IF project.

Why trophies? I've added in "trophies" at the end of the game because a) it seemed fun and b) I'm hoping this will help shore up one of what I see as the weaknesses of MAHTAH-- a single playthrough feels "complete."

In some ways, this was a goal of mine; I wanted non-repeat players (players who get to an ending and never pick up the game again) to have a satisfactory and full experience & to not feel like they were "missing out" on anything. 

But this also leads to there being no clear motivation to replay the game, and no hint of the different secrets you can find, relationships you can build through the game, and endings you can have open up to you. It makes the "exploration space" feel more shallow than Stay?'s-- and it is certainly different than Stay?'s-- but they are both stories about exploration & discovery.

In MAHTAH, the discoveries are your friends, your feelings, your relationships, your past-- yourself, even. You can get a pretty full picture in a single playthrough if you max enough things out, in just the right way, but generally I think it takes a few playthroughs of MAHTAH to get the full experience and story.

Even if a single playthrough can be "satisfying,"  it's not the end of the story or the experience, but my focus on trying to make single playthroughs "stand on their own" undercut the visibility to the gaps and holes still remaining that required repeat playthroughs to access. 

So: trophies. They're fun! And they both inform the player at the end of the story that there is content they didn't access -- and ideally make some of that content interesting and desirable. It gives the player a goal as they launch into the next playthrough, and hopefully having that goal lets them play the game in new ways and meet new experiences. 

[gavidaily]

Hello! Here's the full La Vanguardia interview in English translated by yours truly 💖 enjoy!

Pablo Páez Gavira, Gavi (19 years, Los Palacios y Vilafranca, Sevilla) is an one of a kind player. On the pitch, mixes a delicate technique with an overwhelming will, a mix that is rare between midfielders: he is either head or lungs, but rarely both. Outside the field, he is a stranger. Out of shyness, he would rather be sure of himself before letting people know him. The club sees him as ready. Now, Gavi gives his first long interview to La Vanguardia. His first answers are short, but soon he gets comfortable and with more confidence, he gets more open. It's hard not to like him, he sounds genuine in a world of mechanized words: pure and unfiltered, like the way he plays. 

COLORS "Being of Barça is something that comes from watching the best squad in history, Xavi's, Iniesta..." _______

I: More than 100 matches for Barça and you have given a few interviews. Don't you like it?  G: I'm shy, and I'd rather focus on football, but I'm working on it, since I have to do it. 

I: Are you aware of all the surrounding buzz?  G: A little bit, yes. I noticed on the streets and Instagram, but I try to get away from it.

I: What do you like most to hear about yourself?  G: That I'm a shy boy, but a good person with everyone. This is how I want to be known.

I: Whenever you score a goal, you kiss the Barça badge. You are from a town in Sevilla, how come you became such a big culé? G: From seeing the best team in history, the Barça of Xavi, Iniesta and others. Since then I have been and always will be of Barça.

THE WILL "Sometimes I watch the match replay and think 'Why did I do that?'" _______

I: You arrived at Barça very young, at 11 years-old. Were you scared of the change? G: Yes, a lot. I remember that a couple months before the move I told my parents I didn't want to come, that I was scared of what could happen. Today I thank my parents, they were the first to notice that I should be here. 

I: What were you scared of? G: Of everything, La Masia... I was very little and didn't want to leave my hometown, leave my friends behind. It meant changing my whole life.

I: And La Masia became like home for you... G: Yes, I spent my whole childhood here, almost sinceAs long as I've known myself, it is everything to me. 

I: Your first six months here were hard because of FIFA's ban on Barça. Gavi, with 11 years and unable to play, it's hard to imagine. A lion in a cage. G: I couldn't bear not to play, for me it's like breathing. So I deal it with how I could have. I decided to play in the football league my school had.

I: Your team was lucky, you must have won everything. G: I scored four or five goals on each match. We won everything but the day we played in the league. 

GETTING BETTER "I am enjoying this season best. We are doing things better." _______

I: What happened? G: I played my first match for Barça, I couldn't go. My schoolmates still pick on me because of that.

I: In your first year in Barcelona you lived with your parents. G: Yes, in Balmes street, but at the end of the year I told them they could leave me, that I wanted to live in La Masia.

I: Which were your favorite players? G: Iniesta the most, but Isco and Veratti too.

I: The most technical. You can shoot with both legs, did you learn it or is it natural for you? G: It's something that has happened since I was a kid. I actually say that inside the box I shoot best with the left leg, I can define better with it, it's more natural. 

I: Let's be clear: you are an interior. G: I have always been. Left interior. 

I: Now you are playing more in that position.  G: Xavi knows where I'm more comfortable, but he has a lot of trust in me and in each match he decides where I should be and I try my best for the coach. To give everything.

"Ansu will come back, I know it." _______

Gavi has simple habits. His life revolves around football and even during his free time he watches the matches on the television with his friends, most of them from his time in La Masia. "I'm a football nerd, I watch a lot of matches with my friends at home, Premier League above all. I like some clubs more than others. I follow Manchester City and now especially Brighton, because they are good and Ansu Fati plays there", says the midfielder, who misses his ex-teammate and hopes to see him back in the blaugrana locker room after the one year of loan to the english club. "I believe in Ansu. I believe he will get his confidence back and I wish he comes back. We have been friends since we met in La Masia and I wish him the best always'.

I: You dominate both legs, you are good in duels, with the head... Is there anything you see a margin for improvement? G: Taking last year as reference, I have been better on pausing the plays and not making as many fouls with divided balls.

I: Is that a personal work or from Xavi? G: Xavi tries to improve me, we talk a lot.

I: Are you not scared of getting hurt with those divided balls?  G: Sometimes I watch the match replay, I see something I did and think "Sh*t, why did I do that?. But my mother suffers more than me, she always tells me not to get in fights and it scares her a lot. But at the end of the day, it's football.

I: Do you consider yourself a harsh player? G: I consider myself a fighter, until the end, and I won't lose that.

I: Last year, from Madrid, rumors started that said you were an overly harsh player. Did it reach you? Were you annoyed?  G: I was aware, but I was relaxed. Xavi helped me and it didn't matter what some people said.

PROGRESS "I have more breaks, fewer fouls and this year I want to score ten goals" _______

I: It's an unquestionable truth that you don't like losing... G: I have improved compared to the lower categories, any coach could tell you.

I: But what did you do? Being a sore loser it's not that bad. G: Let's say I didn't take well and my teammates paid for it during the training sessions. It used to drive me crazy, I didn't know how to lose.

I: What would you do for Barça? G: Everything. I would do everything, whatever it is.

I: During the summer, with the new signings, they said you were going to be left out of the eleven starters... and now, you’re untouchable. G: I have a lot of trust in me, that's what matters to me. And if Xavi wants to talk to me and help me to improve, I thank him. The coach was one of the best players in my position. 

I: You are 19 and you already are a reference for players that come from La Masia, like Lamine Yamal...

G: I didn't imagine that when I was little, but yes. I try to calm them down, and get them excited. I had Busi, Jordi... I know it is very important to have that support. 

LOCKEROOM "I admire Frenkie. When they said he could leave in the summer, I was screwed and I told him that." _______

I: Which player do you praise for his professionalism in the actual squad? G: Frenkie, Frenkie. 

I: Do you miss him? G: F*ck, a lot, just like Pedri.

I: Well, De Jong was on the market two summers ago... G: At that moment I was screwed, I didn't want him to leave, and I told him that. Thankfully, he didn't leave, and he's still with us. 

I: Are you enjoying playing? That's important.  G: I'm enjoying it a lot more during this season. We're doing things better.

I: With the Joãos the chemistry has been instantly. G: They are very good and have settled in fast. João Félix it's on my side and I can work with him more, but I look for them both. Without them we would not have been able to make some progress this season.

 I: How do you see Madrid? Stronger? G: They have significant casualties, but they are a winning team.

I: Last year you won the League and this year you are finally required to play a good role in the Champions League. G: We have to get as far as possible, we're Barça, like the coach says. Winning with Barça is one of my dreams, one of the biggest, it's what all culés want. 

I: The match against Porto is a key match during the group stage. Do you overthink about the matches beforehand?  G: Yes, even more important ones. I think about how it's going to go and I usually imagine scoring a goal. Thoughts…

I: How many goals do you think you will score this season? G: I said to Iván de la Peña, my representative, that I'll score ten, I already did two.

I: Outside the box the shot doesn't prove much. G: I have to see it very clearly, it is still difficult for me, I have to dare.

I: Do you see yourself playing for Barça your whole life? That's almost impossible these days. G: I wish it could be like that, I wouldn't be happier anywhere else. 

[the-black-bulls]

Realization of the Day:

(⚠ huge manga spoilers for anime only below)

Yami is an actually pretty darn tragic character if you take five mins to think about it and take a good look at his history; I managed a quote based on this as a joke here, but he's indeed covered nearly every sad and tragic backstory trope in the book.

Let's see... he lost his mother who died from childbirth when he's 5-6 years old, and spent the better part of his childhood on pointless and intense training by his abusive, sexist, daughter-beater, war obsessed father; and then at the age of 13 said father forced a freaking drug on his baby sister and Yami had to witness the massacre of their clan by her hand before he took down his father for once and all to protect her before he stopped her and held the weight of all her crimes on his shoulders and left his hometown to never return again.

Then... he shipwrecked, barely surviving death, on an unwelcoming land and suffered from language barrier, culture shock, xenophobia and about every typical "Why Clover Kingdom is the Worst Kingdom in the World" key point, all lasted for two years until he turned 15 and recieved his grimoire, but prior and shortly after to it Yami was pretty much on his own with no one else to rely on or a home to return to.

The... things got better, no? He met the Faust Bros, he met Julius, he was offered a roof to sleep under and a chance to start fresh; 15 years lad who's already suffered a lot but ready to live and learn against all the odds with Nacht as his partner in crime and Morgen as his best friend... and then they both got screwed up years later when Yami, at the age of 18, wasn't around, so he only got to face the loss through a visit to the latter's grave while the former grieved his brother's death, and Yami never stopped smoking ever since.

It was right then and there when Yami decided, enough's enough, and promised to create a squad that became a home for the unlucky who shared some of Yami's experience in his past, be it the abusive family, lost of a beloved one, crippling loneliness, crime burdens, being unfit to the norms, and the list goes on. My favorite example is a threeway tie between Noelle, who is pretty much Ichika if Ichika didn't have an amazing brother, and Gauche, whose first meeting with Yami makes a hell lot of sense now that we know Yami also had a sister he threw his life for her sake, and finally Nero, who will never be able to return to her old life and is fairly content about it because she's too loyal to the person she loves to cry over homesickness.

Yami has been there, done that, experienced those, and is still going through some TraumaWorthyBullshit™ right now, and while he rarely shows negative signs of what he's been through, I like to think that he offers the Black Bulls what he always wanted to be offered.

That, by accepting them and letting them live however they want, but above all, by giving them a safe place to belong to.

In short, the Black Bulls is Yami's way to deal with the bullshit that's his lifetime worth of trauma. Thank you for coming to my ted talk.

[readyforevolution]

History They Didn't Teach You In School

Scholars have left him out of the history books and Hollywood couldn’t be bothered to acknowledge his existence either. He was Howard Hughes’ top engineer and lifelong best friend. This is about Frank Mann, the hidden genius behind much of Howard Hughes’ success in the world of aviation and mechanics. Frank Calvin Mann (November 22, 1908 – November 30, 1992) was an African American engineer who was known for his participation in many Howard Hughes's projects including the Spruce Goose. He also starred in the Amos 'n' Andy radio show. Apparently, his lifelong friendship with Hughes was instrumental in opening doors for Mann's exceptional talents.

A native of Houston, Texas, Frank Calvin Mann's parents wanted him to become a schoolteacher, but from childhood, he had a natural ability to fix things. At age 11, he had his own mechanic shop. As a teenager, he worked alongside airplane mechanics, repairing engines. By the ago of 20, he had designed and built several of his own Model-T cars. It was unheard of in the 1920s for a Black man to have anything to do with cars, trains, or airplanes. His life-long friend Howard Hughes was instrumental in opening doors for Mann's exceptional talents.

Mann attended the University of Minnesota and UCLA where he earned a mechanical engineering degree. World War II equipment that revolutionized military weaponry would not exist if not for his involvement. Incredibly, few Americans are aware of Frank Mann. He was the first Black commercial pilot for American Airways. He was also a distinguished military officer. In 1935, following Italy’s invasion of Ethiopia, Frank Mann flew reconnaissance missions for the Ethiopian army.

He served in the World War II Army Air Corps and was the primary civilian instructor of the famous Tuskegee Airmen in 1941. He left Tuskegee after a rift with the U.S. government, which didn't want the Squadron, an all-Black unit, flying the same high caliber of airplanes as their White counterparts. An angry Mann had refused to have his men fly old "World War I biplane crates," because his airmen had proven themselves as equals.

Though they were being given inferior equipment and materials, their squadron never lost a plane, bomber, or pilot, and they were nicknamed the "Red Tails.” After the war, Mann was instrumental in designing the first Buick LeSabre automobile and the first communications satellite launched for commercial use.

His pride and joy was a miniature locomotive enshrined in the Smithsonian Institute, Mann also played a principal role in the Amos ‘N’ Andy radio show. He moved back to his hometown in the 1970s.

Frank Mann died November 30, 1992 in Houston.

[wolfertenerisian]

🐺Linda Alexandria-Silas Cortez🐺

[Artist Note: This was an Art piece I commissioned a friend to do of my OC Linda Cortez] [Artist Note #2: This also delves into my Prominent OC Linda's background and history generalized being expanded upon] Now without any further AAAAHHHDOO! °˖✧✦─────••.. ˚｡˖✩★✩˖｡˚ ..••─────✦✧˖° Linda Cortez, known by her home planet's Longer name Linda Alexandria-Silas Cortez, or by her Kosanic name, L'eandha Alekh'zandr'áa-Si'less Khor'tej'jhz she's a Kosan female Furry [Ortho] wolf from the musically prestigious Cortez Family that owns the family Music Company "Cortez Music" which she also had an alter ego thanks to Star like Earrings & Necklace (Jem/Holograms Reference) where she turns herself as Zara beautiful singer with her formed band "Zara & the Wolf Pack" with her sisters Jaci, Maria & Lysandra respectively. After a small stint in the Kosan Army for 2-3 years, she then got back to singing with her sisters making the band famous. Subsequently, she assumed the role of Ambassador to Valazaria after aligning herself with the ODKP-KODU coalition party for a period. Alongside her childhood friend Qivula, she traveled to Earth to assist in thwarting the Valzarian Empire's attempts at domination. She later ascended to the presidency & is presently the Earth Sovereign of the Republic.

Name: Linda Alexandria-Silas Cortez [Kosan: L'eandha Alekh'zandr'áa-Si'less Khor'tej'jhz] Nickname: Linnie/Lindy DOB: June 13th, 2940 [Earth Years: 1903] Hometown: Calzino'Kal, Voccazik, Unikosa Residence: Unikosa [Formerly/Birth Planet], Montreux, Switzerland, Earth (Currently) Paternal Father: John Alexandria-Silas Cortez Maternal Mother: Martina  Alexandria-Silas Cortez "Callesto" Paternal Tribe: Voccazik Tribe State Maternal Tribe: Fal'cao Tribe State Occupation: Singer [Formerly], Earth President [Formerly], Terran Sovereign [Currently]

Personality: She's a woman of friendliness & understanding, she's a Gemini born in June willing to understand both or multiple sides of things before coming to a conclusion of her own! She is very Athletic, Musically orientated, Trustworthy & even Cautious about certain things as well bunch of other stuff. However, while Linda can be Friendly she's the person that fits the "Beware the Nice Ones" Trope. IF you Anger her enough times for a long period you don't want to see her angry and wish you met the Nice Linda & not the "Angry Linda!" Art ©️ AleesianiCool Linda Cortez ©️ ME Anyway, enjoy the Art Piece & stay FANG-tastic!

[theolivetree123]

Voice claim: Alhaitham - Genshin Impact (JP)

Character Details

Age: 18

Height: 181 cm

Sexuality: Bisexual (men pref)

Birthday: July 16th

Nicknames: Swordfish (Floyd), Rosé Noire (Rook)

Dominant Hand: Right/Left (Ambidextrous)

Dorm: Scarabia

Grade: Freshman (1st year)

Likes: Scented candles, gothic lamps, plants

Dislikes: Loud noises, cigarettes, dogs, alcohol

Favorite Food: Chocolate cake

Least Favorite Food: Yams

Best Subject: History of Magic

Club: Pop Music Club

Hobbies: Botany, cooking

Homeland: Briar Valley

Family: Constance (cousin), Victor (cousin), adoptive mother and father, biological mother (dead) and father (whereabouts unknown)

Twisted from: Sarah Sanderson (Hocus Pocus)

Character Info

Silas is a very stoic and serious young man. He is known for being the mature and most experienced mage of the three cousins. This maturity and seriousness causes Silas to seem kind of intimating, and in his childhood, he struggled to make friends because of it. It takes a lot of work to break Silas out of his shell, but once he opens up, he's a very kind person who will always put his friends and family's safety over his own.

After his mother passed when Silas was 7 years of age, he spent the rest of his childhood with his abusive father. Silas's dad was extremely neglectful, only interacting with his son when he needed things and when Silas would clean the house. Silas's father was also a drunkard, always leaving the house to go to bars. Silas found himself being bored most days, only studying and cleaning. Only on certain days would he secretly go outside to play with cousins, Constance and Victor. Due to his father's neglect, Silas grew up to be very reserved and have major trust issues. This led him to act colder to most people and shut himself off from any social interaction with people who weren't his relatives.

As Silas and his cousin's potion business boomed, so did their reputation. In both good and bad ways. Silas quickly grew protective of his cousins, making sure they didn't get hurt by their clients. Silas grew wary of every single customer the three would have, never actually taking to any of them and just helping with potion-making. Once the three cousins became homeless, however, Silas became the somewhat "father," having to keep track of his younger cousins and make sure they were fed and healthy.

Once the three moved in with their new parents, Silas was less than thrilled. While the others appreciated the kind gesture, Silas grew wary of the couple that took them in, worrying about any ulterior motives the couple might have had. As the years went by, Silas warmed up to his new parents, but he still struggles with calling them that to this day.

Unsurprisingly, when Silas found out he would be enrolling into NRC, he was a bit wary at first. He had never really had many friends before, and even in his new hometown, he still struggled with socializing. Once Silas came to NRC, it was just like he expected. He had a lot of trouble talking to people, even teachers! But, due to Kalim's kindness, Silas slowly broke out of his shell and finally found some friends.

Relationships

Jamil - Jamil was the first friend Silas ever made at NRC. Due to their similar personalities, they hit it off right away. But, as months went by, Silas started developing more romantic feelings towards Jamil. Whether it was his calm personality or the way he looked at him, Silas started to fall head over heels for Jamil. And even if he couldn't say it, Jamil became one of the most important people to Silas.

Kalim - As the person who broke Silas out of his shell, Kalim strives himself to be Silas's friend, even if Silas doesn't agree. Kalim isn't really who Silas would normally hang out with, but he still respects Kalim both as a housewarden and a friend. Silas sometimes acts like a father towards Kalim, sometimes not letting Jamil do his job and forcing him to take a break. This is due to Silas having to take care of his own siblings. I guess Silas's maternal side just comes out sometimes.

Constance and Victor - As his cousins, Silas obviously loves Constance and Victor very much. Even if they annoy him sometimes. Silas also tends to be a bit overprotective when it comes to Constance and Victor due to their past. Silas sometimes evens goes out of his way to show his disdain for the people his cousins like. But, at the end of the day, Silas would never stop his cousins from finding true love.

Random Facts

Silas doesn't like to admit he has a sweet tooth and likes chocolate

Silas is roommates with Jamil.

Silas likes plants, but his favorite is the venus fly trap. He has a bunch of plants on his side of the dorm room.

Silas can't sleep without holding on to/hugging something.

Silas is blind in his left eye due to the deal he made with his adoptive parents. He hides it because he thinks he doesn't have a use for it anymore.

Silas was in a band before NRC and was in a polyamorous relationship with two other members of the band. They broke up before NRC, but even though Silas has moved on, the other two have not.

Silas used to be polyamorous but isn't anymore.

Character References

[hazyange1s]

MC: Raegan DesRosiers

Basics

Full name: Raegan Caítríona DesRosiers

Nickname: Rae, Rae Rae, Reggie (don’t call her that she’ll hex you)

Gender: female

Species: witch

Date of birth: November 27, 1874

Nationality: French and Irish

Blood status: half blood

Wand: blackthorn, dragon heartstring, 11 3/4 in, rigid

Appearance

Hair color: dark ginger

Hair style: often worn pulled back in a loose braid or bun, though she starts wearing it down w/ her natural messy waves in sixth year

Eye color: amber

Skin tone: fair

Height: 5’5” (and some change)

Body type: curvy and toned from Quidditch/dueling

Clothing style: dark and warm colors (black, red, brown), likes heavy fabrics such as wool, velvet, and leather, prefers to dress casual in battle-ready clothes but also enjoys dressing up

Accessories:

likes to use her wand to keep her hair up

often wears dragon hide gloves

ring made of goblin metal (given to her in sixth year)

Other distinguishing features:

two old scars through her left eyebrow (no memory of getting them)

longer scar over the same eye (cut by a sword during the final repository battle)

LOTS of freckles

Personality

Traits: confident, hotheaded, proud, rebellious, domineering, persuasive, flirtatious

Likes: summer, history, flying, parties, freedom, traveling, independence

Dislikes: authority, swimming/the rain, silence, wet blankets, seafood

Hobbies: dueling, Quidditch, historical research, dancing, weapon-making

Fears: drowning, being forgotten/insignificant, losing control

MBTI: ESTP-T

Enneagram: 8w7 (873) sx/sp

Zodiac: Sagittarius sun, scorpio moon, leo rising

Temperament: choleric

Archetype: The Rebel

Similar characters: Aelin Galthynius, Ginny Weasley, Damon Salvatore, Bellamy Blake, Jude Duarte, Faith Lehane

Family/Friends

Father: Marcel DesRosiers

Muggle

French diplomat

Left when Raegan was eight

Massive preening asshole who despises magic

Mother: Kassady DesRosiers (Fallon)

Pureblood witch

Dragonologist

Killed when Raegan was 15 (a victim of Jack the Ripper)

Gryffindor alumnus

Sibling: Ronan Sharp (half-brother/twin in utero)

Parents are Kassady DesRosiers and Aesop Sharp

Two months older (born Sept. 21)

Hufflepuff

Pet: Soleil

Phoenix (found in the mountain cave)

Fiercely loyal; as all phoenixes are, known to show up at odd times (whether she’s in trouble or just to harass his mom)

Friends: Diana Blackwine (childhood best friend), Sebastian Sallow, Natsai Onai, Garreth Weasley, Ominis Gaunt, Leander Prewett, Imelda Reyes (frenemies)

Magic

Boggart: her father…until her guilt over the loss of Professor Fig leads him to be her new one

Patronus: tigress

Polyjuice: turns amber and tastes like honey mead

Amortentia: cinnamon, clove, smoke, and sandalwood

Special abilities:

Ancient magic

Dark Arts (wielded “when necessary” which is really just…whenever her instincts say)

Pyromancy - Raegan is an Igneus; a species of witch that is immune to and can conjure fire at will, the trait being passed through her mother’s bloodline

Backstory

Born in Avignon, France, Raegan had a turbulent childhood. While her mother was loving and kind, she often had to travel for her work - as did Raegan’s father, meaning she was often with only one parent for extended periods of time or had to be watched by one of her paternal aunts. When he was around, Marcel was not an affectionate man…in fact, he was often physically and verbally abusive to his wife right in front of Raegan and extended the treatment to her as she got older.

Eventually he discovered that Kassady had had an affair and conceived a son with another man. This coupled with his disdain for witchcraft led him to abandon his wife and daughter. So, the two moved back to Kassady’s hometown of Galway, Ireland.

However, times were tough. Her mother’s career as a dragonologist was no longer lucrative enough in the troubling times, and so they again relocated to London.

It was there that Kassady met a tragic, sudden end at the hands of an unidentified serial killer (who many suspected was actually a wizard). A newly orphaned Raegan, upon hearing the news, burned her house to the ground and wound up killing the officer who reported it accidentally.

The emotion was enough to unlock the ancient magic that had been hidden away inside of her, and just days after her mother’s funeral she received her Hogwarts letter. She now lives with her best friend (Diana)’s aunt in Scotland.

Academics

Best subject: DADA

Favorite subject: Flying and History of Magic

Favorite teacher: Hecat and Sharp

Worst subject: Herbology

Least favorite subject: Herbology and Divination

Least favorite teacher: Binns

Quidditch: Chaser (sixth year) and Quidditch Captain in seventh

As a student:

Rarely late, but she does miss (more than) a few classes in her fifth year

Detention record reads more like a rap sheet

Infamous but still respected; dedicated and intelligent

Future

Career: Auror

Though Raegan notoriously resists authority and despises the incompetence of the Ministry, she sees working for them as an opportunity to change things. Being in on the more secretive matters going on behind the scenes of the Wizarding World (and the chance to deal with them under the protection of their influence) doesn’t hurt, either.

They likely would have fired her on her first day for her insubordination, but they can’t deny the fact that she quickly becomes one of the best they have. Really, it’s a case of mutual loathing maintained through an advantageous truce.

Eventually, she does leave of her own accord, and takes up studying ancient history and magical weapon making.

Spouse: Sebastian Sallow (m. 1898)

(thanks @rypnami for motivating me by association to finally post this months old draft 🤠)

[rosewaterandivy]

10. a kiss is not enough

Summary: Rumor has it, that hometown hero-turned-teacher Steve Harrington is hot for teacher. The English teacher next door to him at Hawkins High, who also happens to be his childhood friend, that is.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x chaotic!dumbass reader

W.C.: 4.5K

Warnings: No use of y/n - reader goes by the nickname Trouble instead, cursing, sexual situations - SMUT & idolatry (my usual bullshit), real-talk with Nancy Wheeler, idiots still being idiots, Modern!Teacher AU, English teacher reader, History teacher Steve, slow burn, friends to lovers, romance.

A/N: Holy shit, I can't believe we've come to the end (or is it 👀) of this series! When I started this, I had no clue how many people would respond to Trouble and Steve's idiots-to-lovers story - but I'm so glad that they did! This series will always be near and dear to my heart, for a variety of reasons, but primarily for the people it brought into my life (here's lookin' at you, babe!). This isn't a goodbye from Trouble and Steve so much as a see you later - don't hate me too much! Poetry excerpt from John Keats. 18+ mature content (minors dni). Reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated, please let me know what you thought; enjoy & thanks for reading! 💜

series masterlist | playlist - newly updated!

Trouble’s playlist from Steve: trouble will find me

Steve's playlist from Trouble: rebel without a clue

previous || epilogue

Now, May, Finals Week

“Just think about it, kid,” Hopper says on his way out your classroom door. He’d requested a meeting during your conference block, when normally he’d amble in under some pretense just to shoot the shit.

You nod, at a loss for words. It’s not like you needed yet another thing on your plate— waiting to hear back from admissions and not spilling to Steve or the gang was bad enough.

Yeah, you’d applied for grad school (even though grad students were the worst) and Hop had been contacted as a reference, which prompted his little visit today. Apparently, the district had approved a stipend and sabbatical for faculty furthering their education in graduate school.

“I’d like to recommend you,” Hop said matter of factly, sitting in a desk across from yours. “Maybe not for the sabbatical until you’re further along in the program, writing your thesis and whatnot.”

“I, uh–” you stumbled to find the words. “Cart, horse. I haven’t been accepted yet.”

He leveled you with a look, “Are you shittin’ me? Of course you’re getting in.”

You swallowed audibly and busied yourself emptying your desk for the summer, “Well, time will tell I suppose.”

“This isn’t—” Hopper paused in thought. “This isn’t about Harrington, is it?”

“Huh,” you nearly yelled, clutching the cardboard box for dear life. You had been so careful too.

He cracks a smile, “I saw the pair of you at graduation, you think you’re so slick.”

That brings a smile to your face, good ol’ Hop sussing out the goings on like he’d never left the force. 

“It’s nothing.” You assure him, “We haven’t— We’re professionals, okay?”

“I know,” he nods, voice lowering as if he could spook you. “I’m happy for you, really.”

A small smile breaks across your face, “Yeah, uh, thanks.”

Finals done and grades posted, you’d never been so happy to get home. Had plans to pour yourself onto the couch and not move for 72 hours. 

But life (and Steve) had other plans.

He was sorting through the mail, chucking envelopes into various piles on the countertop. The loft was quiet that afternoon— Eddie had a gig in Indy that evening and Robin was crashing at Vickie’s for the night. Steve hummed a tune to himself, the occasional slap of paper hitting the granite punctuating it.

“Oh hey,” Steve turns with a large envelope in hand, “This looks important.” Tosses it with freakish accuracy, the white paper landing with a thwack where your shorts had ridden up against your thigh. 

Distracted by whatever drama was unfolding on TV— something about a crew working on chartered private boats— you mindlessly slip your thumb beneath the lip of the envelope and tear it open. 

It’s only once you’ve pulled the papers from it that you glance to see what’s what. The university’s crest shines like a beacon, your thumb worrying over the topmost letter. Steve, the bastard, has stopped his mail sorting and turned toward you.

He leans lazily against the counter, a knowing smirk fixed on his lips. You scramble up from the couch with the papers, too nervous to see for yourself. “Here,” you say, thrusting the envelope and documents to his chest. “Can you—”

Pulling you to his chest with an arm, he brushes his lips against the crown of your head. “Sure, honey.” You wrap your arms around him, burying your face into his chest— warm and familiar.

“You know,” he drawls, “The big envelope generally means something good, right?”

“I know,” muffled against his shirt.

He chuckles, hand coming up to cradle your head. Steve clears his throat, reads the opening of the letter in his best announcer voice. “Congratulations! It is with great pleasure that…”

The rest is drowned out by the rushing of blood in your ears, the tears pooling in your eyes breaking free to cascade down your cheeks. He squeezes you tight abandoning the acceptance letter and letting it flutter to the floor in favor of drawing you closer. Steve kisses you, licking your own tears into your mouth, your taste onto your tongue. And it’s so weirdly hot that your heart starts fluttering again, like you’re seeing him for the first time.

Because of course, just as things were going right something had to come and throw a wrench into things. 

Plans for lazing in the early summer forgotten, the next few days saw you coming and going from the university campus for orientation, meetings with faculty, so on and so forth. As you were leaving the grad student mixer, a professor peeled off from a group of faculty to flag you down with a call of your name.

You turn, not recognizing them from the English department. She’s an older woman, has maybe a few years on your mother, and is swathed in a lovely linen dress— the cool elegance of minimalist style.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Holland,” she says shaking your hand. “I’m on the admissions committee and was very impressed with your work on Dante Alighieri.”

“Oh, thanks!”

“And you studied Italian as an undergrad?”

“Certo.”

That brings a smile to her face. “Perfetto,” she says with a perfect Italian accent and waves over another faculty member. “I only ask because there’s a summer intensive in Italy beginning next week that I think you’d be perfect for.” 

Your mind reels. The new professor introduces himself and echoes Dr. Holland’s sentiments— a summer session of classes in Italy, in partnership with Università di Bologna, the oldest university in operation in the world. Scholarships that would cover the cost of tuition, travel, and accommodations for you to peruse.

What the fuck.

Vision swimming, you somehow come back to the conversation at hand. Dr. Holland presses a folder to your hand, “I know you were planning on taking the introductory grad school courses over the summer, but I hope you’ll consider joining us in Italy instead.”

You nod, gobsmacked and make your way to the car. Settling into the sweltering seat, you start the car and call Nancy. If anyone would know what to say in this situation, it would be her.

“That’s the thing,” you sigh, wine glass in hand as you slump on Nancy’s couch. “We’re not anything, haven’t discussed it. I mean, sure, we fuck like rabbits, but aside from that?”

She blows a raspberry and sips from her glass. “He’s in love with you, get over it.”

You jerk up, “Okay, maybe,” you allow. “But he hasn’t said anything.”

“And you won’t pony up to do it yourself?”

A scoff as you drain your glass. “I’m sorry, have you met me?”

Nancy laughs at that, loud and bright. “Unfortunately, yes!” She refills your glass before continuing, “Let’s be honest, you’re both hopeless when it comes to eachother.” She raises her brow before you can balk, “Full offense intended.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

She hums at that, head cocked to the side in thought. Her nail taps against the glass with a soft clink. A bite to her lips before she heaves a sigh, “Sometimes he just needs a push.”

You narrow your eyes at her. “I am absolutely not telling him he’s bullshit, if that’s what you’re after.”

Nancy, to her credit, winces uncomfortably at the memory. “No, no,” a shake of her head. “Absolutely not, you would never.” She sets her glass down carefully, giving you her full attention. “What I’m getting at is this: do you want to be something with Steve?”

She lets the question hang in the air between you. 

“Because if you don’t know Trouble, you should back away now.” A low warning tone. “You’re it for him, have been since he laid eyes on you, but you’re both too scared to do anything about it.”

You drain your glass to the dregs and hastily take your leave. At the sound of the door closing, Nancy grabs her phone and brings it to her ear, “Hey Harrington, I need a favor…”

Returning from a less than helpful hang session at Nancy’s, you find a post-it note left on your bedroom, door that reads ‘meet me at our spot on lover’s lake. - s.’

Prizing it from the wood grain, you make your way back to the kitchen to scavenge for something to eat, in an effort to soak up the remnants of wine in your system. Opening the fridge you spy another post-it stuck to the topmost shelf: ‘get your ass down here, i’ll feed you soon enough. - s.’

With a laugh, you let the fridge door fall shut and grab your keys.

_

He can see you now, just barley, even in the indigo dark. Wonders to himself, how are you even real? How is it that you’re mine? An explanation that won’t ever come. 

You slip into the cool water of Lover’s Lake like a dream, with nary a sound. Steve stumbles after you on the piles of clothing you’d left behind—bunched up denim shorts here, a threadbare tank-top over there, the silk of your thong musky and damp. 

Fisting his shirt to pull it up and over his head, it falls to the forest floor behind him, jeans shucked off and tossed elsewhere, boxers joining your lingerie by the shore. His patience is wearing thin as you wade further and further from him out into the lake. 

Little minx, he smiles and takes a breath before diving beneath the waves. Arms cutting through the placid water at a quick pace until he’s occupying the space between your bare legs, and coming up for air. 

One arm drags you near, lazily pressing you close, tight around the small of your back as the tide breaks around your waist, minute movements almost imperceptible— the slow roll of your hips against his.

Water shallow enough to tread and keep you buoyant. Steve kisses you slow and sweet, pulling you flush against his chest while you writhe under the water’s surface. Body slick and wanton and arching into his own. 

His dick jumps when you lift yourself to drape your arms around his shoulders. A sharp breath replaced with a shaky exhale as he brings his forehead to rest on yours, dark eyes taking in the exhilarated flush of your body. 

And Steve knows, under his skin and tucked into the cage of his ribs, near the beating of his anguished heart, that you’re the only thing left in this world worth worshipping. To keep you, and render you a flightless bird, to clip your wings, would be all for naught.

He has to let you go again, and so soon after you found him. From perihelion to aphelion before the moon’s full turning. The soft curve of your throat drawn taut as you glance upward, marvelling at the stars and planets in the northern sky. 

“A thing of beauty is a joy forever.” Your voice is a husk, low and hoarse, in the dark. “Its loveliness increases, it will never pass into nothingness.” Your eyes, once fixed on the sea of stars above, shift to him once more.

Closer to the shoreline now, and unbeknownst to you, Steve had gently waded you both inshore, until he could draw you toward the dock. 

You let him walk you back until you’re flush against a mooring pole, wood rough against your moon-bathed skin. Body yielding to him as both his hands slide beneath your bottom, squeezing the soft flesh of your ass before he pulls you forward by the hips.

“S’okay, honey,” He mutters—right into your panting mouth with a sultry pull of his lips. “I’ve got you.”

“Steve,” You gasp, “This is unfair.” Your body jerks with every teasing kiss from his lips that he laves and sucks to the column of your throat.

He ignores you, crawling his hands onto your hips to keep you from squirming. Works his thigh in between your legs for good measure. Once you’re settled, he moves one hand to your center a finger trailing up and down your slippery folds. His mouth latches onto the spot that makes you keen, just behind your ear. You fist his hair in both hands at the same time he slips a digit inside.

But Steve doesn’t move. Other than his tongue’s soft licks on your neck and into your kiss-bitten mouth, he doesn’t move at all. He happily lets his finger rest inside of you, gathering your juices all over his hand.

You whimper, trying to shimmy against them, anything to create more contact. Its intrusion lights a terrible match inside of your body, and goddamn it, you want to a forest fire.

Calming breaths in and out. Steady head, steady heart. When you’re able to meet his gaze again, you take a moment to see him as he truly is: dappled in moonlight, forelock hanging in front of his eyes, his entire focus trained on you.

It feels like an eternity passes before he finally lets you have another—adding one more thick finger inside, stretching you as he moves them both around, curling them, scissoring them, pumping them in and out.

Steve sucks enthusiastically on your sensitive skin and lips, fucks you with two fingers almost wildly, and your body responds with fervor. You gasp and moan, arching back into his hand, goosebumps blooming all over your shoulders and down your arms and legs.

You shake like a leaf in his arms, not knowing if it’s from the cool night air or due to the man before you. 

Instead of increasing his pace, Steve continues to stroke you with his fingers, slowly prodding at your entrance with a third. Your eyes roll back and get lost in your head as you lean back with a whimper.

“Just trying to get you ready.” He murmurs, so soft and low that your heart stills.

Your legs wrap around his back loosely as he holds you still, his previous two fingers pushing inside gently. The third finger meets resistance as you tense up. “S-sorry,” You whisper, “I’m…” 

Your head knocks back against the wooden pier. But you move his hand back and try again. He’s so tender and sweet with you as he turns his head to place kisses on your cheek and ear.

You blink owlishly, trying desperately to weave your threads of thought together. A shake of your head to rattle them loose. A sweet smile up to Steve, a barely there kiss to his lips.

Your eyelids are heavy, breaths heaving from your chest. Steve commits to memory the way your lids flutter when he touches you.

You gasp and moan, arching your chest into his and pulled as taut as a bow sting—back forming a crescent-shaped arc, a sliver of the moon radiant in the inky blue reflection of the water.

“C’mon, that’s it, honey. You’re so close. Almost there… Good girl… Good girl.”

With a cry, you come undone, rolling your hips every which way as you reach orgasm on Steve’s hand. His voice continues to praise you, lips kissing your sweat-slicked collar, bristles on his cheek and jaw tickling your sensitive skin.

Coming back to yourself, you shiver bodily. And Steve looks at you as if you hold infinities in the palms your hands. 

You reach for him reverently, desperate for his shape of beauty and noble nature. A dream realized, a wish granted, gentle and true. You feel brave enough to shift and stroke him with determination.

You whisper, "Missed you," eliciting a shudder from him as your palm grips him tenderly. 

Relishing in the temperature of his body, you sigh. Spreading the beaded precome at the tip of his cock up and down his shaft. Steve groans, head falling to yours.

“Missed you more,” He hums, eyes heavy-lidded and lustful. 

Gasping as Steve guides your hips with one hand, and grips himself with the other. Slowly and without haste, he fills you inch by inch until he’s so deep inside you think he could burst from your throat.

You whimper. There aren’t enough words to describe it— the gratifying sting, an all-encompassing and chilling burn, a mystifying and utter fullness that nearly brings tears to your eyes. You’re fearful to move, to lose this sensation, and afraid to feel what comes next. But you know that you want it.

Steve kisses your lips tenderly, babbling praise, whispering affirmations, soothing the shock that surges up your spine with his warm palm. Slowly, he rocks you back, as water lapping against your thighs, holds onto your body with one hand, smoothing the hair that falls over your face with the other.

You’re gripping him so tightly it takes some effort to slide even an inch of him out— and there’s many inches of him. Sweat collects on your brow as you grind, dragging against his length, forcing shudders to course all over both your bodies. “Is this okay?” you cry, delirious, “Steve? You feel so good.”

He moves in you, like a prayer.

A groan escapes him as his hand squeezes your back just a little too hard. He’s holding back, trying to prolong your pleasure, but his own is chasing him down, only a few steps away from pouncing.

You coax it towards him with faster snapping of your hips against his, clawing at his back, nibbling on his ear. “Come on, lover… just a little more.”

With a grunt and a shudder, and a hard kiss to your lips that makes your teeth clack against each other, Steve thrusts one last time as deeply as possible, riding out his orgasm as he pulls your hips against his. 

The two of you feel rooted together, sticky with sweat and so tightly flushed that you’re not sure where he ends and you begin. Your body slumps as you drape your arms over his neck. Steve turns his head to kiss your shoulder before making the effort to pull away, your shaky legs held in his secure grasp.

The black slik of night gives way to the earth’s rotation, stars and moon bending to the will of gravity. Splashes in its silent, dark depths as you broach the shore. A little shaky on your feet, but he’s close behind, sultry and brilliant like the summer morning quickly approaching.

Whispers and murmurs tucked between fervent kisses as you dress. Fabric sticking to damp skin as his hands roam. Frenetic movements as he backs you up against the car, the coolness of it causing you to shiver. 

“You should do it,” he rasps against your lips. “The Italy thing, you always loved it there.”

“How did you–” you sputter.

You can’t see him roll his eyes, but you just know. “Nance, who else?” 

The warmth of Steve’s body burns against you, a hand threading through your hair half-convinced the moon is hiding there, hanging like a jewel in the night. And you’re a mess when you kiss him. Your breath is warm and so sweet, and the center of his chest squirms like something alive. 

In that moment, you love him but can’t tell him, not yet. You decide the sun that will kiss freckles to his face will do it for you.   

The song of summer sings out as you load your suitcase into Nancy’s car a few days later. The trunk slams closed and your back is pressed against his chest, his arm hanging casually around your collar. It is the end of May, the first bloom of summer balmy on your skin.

Steve had not taken the news of Nancy driving you to the airport well.

At all.

A sponged necklace of kisses to your throat as the light creeps in. Sheets kicked to the edge of the bed so you’re tangled up in him. Skin already glinting gold in the summer sun. Twisting in his hold, desperate to glance at the time. “Steve,” muffled against the heft of his shoulder, “I gotta go, Nance will be here soon.” 

The turn of his weight bearing down, trapping your body under his. A cruel circle of his hips has you shuddering. His breath ghosts along your skin, “Baby, baby please.” Nose trailing down from your sternum to the swell of your stomach. Pausing there for lips to lave kisses on the curves that trailed to your hips. 

Eyes dark and heady with promise, “Just a taste.” Lips and mouth delving lower now, fingers parting the cleave of your cunt with a squelch. He hooks them back into his mouth with a groan. “Mmm,” he slurs, drunk off your arousal. “You taste good, sweetheart,” His nose bumps against your clit, “Like honey.”

Breath stuttering in the cage of your ribs, you fist his hair in one hand and tug. Steve moans overtly, pupils blown wide while he’s face deep in pussy. “Steve,” Your voice trembles. He glances up, smoldering and glorious, drinking you up. “Ah—fuck,” before you’re overtaken again.

You’re desperate, and he can hear it in your voice. A quiver in your throat, you swallow thickly mouth falling open in a pant. His fingers work into you easily, dragging exquisitely along your channel—warm and wet, only growing more so with every thrust of his hand. You mewl, hips bucking up as he sucks your swollen clit. 

Legs thrown over his shoulders, as he cants your pelvis forward, arm heavy against your stomach to bully you in place. “Sweet girl,” He coos, lips ruddy and wet with your slick. “Doin’ so well for me.” You shiver in his hold, sunbeams hazy with orange glow, the refracting light makes a halo to crown him and for a second you feel blind.

Then you feel something pulled taut in your belly. A chord stretching like a rubber band before it snaps. The wind up is excruciating, Steve’s litany of devotions falling in hushed murmurs from his lips. His fingers plunging up into the chasm between your legs, pulling away wetter each time.

He bends back down, tongue circling your clit at a dizzying pace. A third finger slides in impossibly, a keen igniting from your throat—high and whimpering. God, you’re so close. You babble, hands scrambling purchase against his dewy skin.

“Come,” he commands, “Come for me right now and I’ll fuck you through it, how you like. Then I’ll make you come again and we can go.”

“Oh my god,” you thrash on the bed, hair sticking to the sheen of your face, hanging on by a thread as his fingers drive into you, on a mission to break either the bed frame or your brain, both were fine. In a rush. Can’t quit now. A little bit more. Your entire body is folded against him, insides fluttering desperately, maddeningly.

“Everyone’s gonna know,” Steve promises, “You stumbling in there.”

The image flashes through your lust-addled brain, the telltale sign of him screwing you stupid— lips swollen, legs wobbly, outfit crumpled up, smelling like him and sex in front of all your friends.

“You want it, don’t you, want them to know you’re all mine?” He smears your wet around the sides of your cunt— spit, slick— up to your clit. And then he pushes you like a button, flicking the pad of his thumb upwards and grins at the way you jerk in time.

“Stevie,” you mewl, “Steve.” The syllable breaks, your panting comes out in choked babbling.

You drily sob out something broken, a tiny echo of affirmation as he keeps fucking into you like he could break through. He’s really abused your pussy this morning, maybe gone too far, but every time you come like this, it’s like he’s seeing something holy. 

“Oh my god…!” It’s a small shout as you shatter, and it makes Steve’s spine light up as you rub your face further into the pillow.

“Praying to me, sweetheart?” but doesn’t stop those tiny, hard circles, doesn’t stop melting into your body, his dick pulsing as he ruts against the sheets. “You can keep doing that,” he urges, “I like that.”

So, you’re not surprised when the two of you stumble into a nearly finished breakfast, as predicted, in a terrible disarray, and Robin crosses herself before promising, “I’m getting you two a goddamn chastity belt.”

On the couch, Eddie clicks the remote to a new channel, snapping his ring-clad fingers with an offhanded, “A-fucking-men.”

As much as you tried to tell yourself that this wasn’t goodbye but instead see you soon, it didn’t stick. But the ache in your gut did—low and menacing, growling like an animal. 

Eddie and Robin were easy, promises to stay in touch and bring back the best candy. Your parents were less so, tight hugs and dried tears on cheeks. 

Steve, however, you needed to brace yourself for. Short of chaining yourself to Nancy’s car, you weren’t sure how you’d escape with your dignity intact. He was already kissing on you, soft and sweet, as Nancy slid into the driver’s seat while Eddie and Robin waved goodbye walking back inside.

You slip from his grasp in a flash, pulling him by the belt loops to knock hips. “Stevie, lover mine,” you sing, his palms cupping your ass as his hands slide into your back pockets.

Lover.

What a word.

You think about it every waking second—the way he stretches in the morning, how he sings in the shower, dances in the kitchen, smiles and beams at anyone who passes by—how good he is.

How you love him.

“Mm—” raspy, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

Feet walking you closer and closer and you’re pressed against him. Nosing along the column of his neck, nipping at the delicate skin there, watching as his throat bobs when he swallows. 

Hands free themselves from denim confines, a thumb caresses the small of your back. Steve pries your hand from his chest, and brings it to his mouth, placing a tender kiss against your palm. 

You hum as his lips brush your skin, observing as he meanders to the thin flesh of your wrist. Hazel eyes near golden in the morning sun as Steve looks to you, face open and fond. Lips featherlight when they kiss your thundering pulse.

Only then do you start to break. 

You thought you were prepared. But it steals the breath from your lungs, levelling you to ruin, a creeping sense of hopelessness in its wake. 

He’s quick to notice, crushing you to his chest and hand cradling your head. Soothing murmurs of “S’okay honey, we’ll be alright,” and the rasp of your name. Fingers brushing hair from your face with a soft smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

And it is hard to leave him, but you can do difficult things.

Forehead bent to yours, back warm in the sun’s decorous rays, a searing tear-laden kiss and you’re off. Turned back in your seat to see him recede in the distance until he’s a mere speck on the horizon as Nancy tugs you forward.

All the goodbyes had all been said, save one thing lodged in the depths of your throat. 

I love you. 

[altocat]

Um. Long essay ahead, sorry lol.

We are talking about the Genesis-Sephiroth drama and I must say: Genesis is so very human and I love that. I think he seriously thought that Seph needed to hear some cold, harsh truth to finally see why Shinra sucked and why he and Angeal had defected. So, he just went straight for Seph’s most painful issue—his mother and the answers regarding her. 

I know we react viscerally to the idea of Gen having known about Seph searching for his mother and then weaponizing that, but think about it. Angeal is dead by that point and Genesis is on the verge of death. He is desperate. The man is broken to pieces after discovering that his entire existence had been a lie, an experiment, an abuse of power, etc., and that his own adoptive parents had “betrayed” him. He basically was reduced to an orphan that discovered how awful his care-takers were and how they had used him. 

On top of all this, he lost Angeal, his closest childhood friend, to the SAME horrific downfall. I don’t think we talk enough about how Angeal’s death probably messed with Gen, but I feel that he gets noticeably crueler and frailer afterwards. Shinra took everything from those boys, and Gen’s last hope for any salvation was Sephiroth, who was STILL letting himself be under Shinra’s command. Genesis absolutely wanted to hurt him with a wakeup call and went for the heart with his dagger. 

He probably thought he was doing well, that Sephiroth needed it, and yes, a strain of bitterness from their past rivalry tainted his words, but wasn’t it all just forgivable drivel in the face of their deeper friendship? In the end, Sephiroth could overlook that after seeing the light, yes?

Genesis wasn’t an idiot. He really did believe Sephiroth would help him despite the rude awakening, but what he lacked was deeper insight and empathy for his old friend. 

Genesis had a normal chldhood. He understood family, he understood the idea of a “hometown,” he knew how to hold friends and have fun with his life—he had autonomy despite the lies surrounding his birth. Sephiroth had absolutely none of this throughout his life and had trusted his heart only to his friends—one of whom was dead by that point and the other seemingly a traitor who appeared to use his greatest weakness against him before demanding a part of his very essence. Sephiroth had nothing left in that moment.

Genesis did truly descend into his frenzied, imagined glory-tale of three friends that were all monsters and could save themselves together, thinking that he had a chance to full-fill that dream, but he made the mistake of underestimating Sephiroth’s crumbling mental stability as a human being. We saw what discovering the truth did to two kids that grew up fairly normal. It ruined them, killed them, made one of them cruel in many ways. Gen and Angeal suffered immensely believing they were monsters and eventually reshaped pieces of history in retaliation.

But Sephiroth? The “other” child of Shinra? The solitary one? The one that had been violated directly from the womb…not just through his mother’s cells…but from the time his own life force began to take shape? The one that had been raised to be a killing machine with no true connection to the outside world? His discovery of the truth broke his psyche and led to apocalyptic events. 

Genesis simply failed to consider this, so his “splash of cold water” mixed with his own bitterness, which would have been cruel enough under normal circumstances, actually led to extremely dark consequences. I absolutely believe he knew that Sephiroth had been searching for his mother for his whole life, that Sephiroth had indicated it or brought it up at some point during their youth, regardless of whether the picture was involved or not.

I absolutely think Genesis weaponized Sephiroth’s gaping wound in that area, but I don’t think he realized how damaging it would truly be. He forgot that his friend was not at all “normal” and that his orphanhood was a different entity—something colder and more feral than most. Even most orphans are not completely deprived of normal lives and raised as weapons. We see this with many other characters. So many that lost their families or never knew them still found a way to make a place for themselves in the world or substitute their loss with something else.

Sephiroth literally could not do this as Shinra’s weapon. He had tried with his two friends and lost them both. He was already collapsing under the weight of it all, and Genesis simply did not see it in time. So, he played with fire and paid the price. That look of hurt on his face when Seph rejects him is genuine and raw and real. He had faith in them, in their friendship, and thought that it could withstand a bit of turmoil like it had in the past—but that only could have maybe been the case if Sephiroth had not been who he was—if he had been normal.

Genesis never quite fully understood his hero in the end and it makes me so fucking sad.

I don't think I could have said it better myself. Amazing analysis.

Genesis is a severely misunderstood character. It's really easy to dismiss him without taking a closer look at his feelings and motives. I think there was plenty of bitterness towards Seph, but we all seem to forget that Genesis' deepest, dearest desire at the end of the day was to share the apples with Sephiroth in a moment of acknowledgement. Genesis hurt Sephiroth badly, but there's more layers to it than just petty rivalry and Genesis being terrible just for the sake of it.

[phoenix-manga]

Ottilie Phosia

CV: Mizuki

Biographical Information

Gender: Female

Age: 16

Birthday: April 5

Starsign: Aries

Height: 175 cm

Eye Color: Bubblegum

Hair Color: Cornflower & Lavender

Professional Status

Dorm: Futterwacken

School Year: 1st Year

Class: 1-A | Student no. 8

Occupation: Student

Club: Gardening Research Club

Best Subject: Alchemy

Fun Facts

Favorite Food: Hors d'oeuvres

Least Favorite Food: Eggplant

Dislikes: Heat and insecticides

Hobby: Collecting butterfly eggs

Talents: Perfume alchemy

Idol Stats

Performance: Voice fit for musical and can recite tongue twisters in a song

Choreography: Often performs in the style of irish tap dancing

Styling Jewel Outfits: Quirky | Elegant

She may have the typical ojou-sama personality with proper manners and etiquette; however, her whimsical attitude is often mixed in. She can’t read the atmosphere sometimes and ends up making things confusing or awkward.

But she is helpful when it comes to studying. All her mind-blowing way of phrasing often get stuck in someone’s head, her parent’s tutoring her also contributed to that.

She definitely would be one of those who would say mind blowing things like “Why call them apartments when they’re built together?” 

Ottilie will probably end up eating weird things in the forest if left by herself. She can’t help but want to eat something very colorful, so someone always has to stop her before anything happens. She always says that she is doing it for discovery, no honey, the medical books states that is NOT edible, you don’t need to discover if it can kill you or not!

Though a lot of her friends and relatives thought she’d be a professor like her parents, she actually wants to make perfumes in the future. She has a home-made pipette that she brought from home to make a variety of scents and fragrances. Her side of the room always has a lot of scented things kept in boxes such as candles, perfume, scented paper, incense sticks and many more.

Whenever she makes a fragrance, she always has colorful smoke swirling around her, sometimes she can make fragrances that form shapes from the smoke when used. That’s because she incorporates her magic along with magical herbs into them.

Hometown: Kingdom of Roses

Family History

Ottilie lives in the Kingdom of Roses, her parents are both professors of a school and they teach philosophy and mathematics. The entire family is an odd bunch, always living by the Hatter’s philosophy and would all quote odd poetry that doesn’t make much sense to others other than themselves. 

Her family may be a bit odd but they are well respected for having so many students to sign up for their classes and getting good grades. They are also of nobility so they are always invited to gatherings and parties.

Ottilie was just as whimsical as her parents, which often made her stick out among other children. But it’s not like anyone could say anything when Ottilie was more well-behaved than most children.

Childhood Memories

Ottilie once experienced the cruelty of nature when she released a wild rabbit she fostered when it was injured, just a few meters away a Hawk flew down and snatched it. She cried for a week and even made a crude drawing of the rabbit and placed it on a fake grave her parents made just to make her feel better. Her parents won’t let her live it down and would always tell guests and friends about it, Ottilie is embarrassed from being reminded.

Ottilie tends to be a bit unpredictable when it comes to incantations and alchemy. She is never one to follow the rules and tends to go into a different direction. It always ends with a chaotic scenario… mostly scent related.

Despite her mishaps, she doesn’t struggle with most of her subjects thanks to her parents who were both teachers. But not a lot of students ask for her notes despite her excellent academic skills because… all of her notes are indecipherable. Littered with riddles and scribbles that make no sense to none other than Ottilie.

Squeaks

Her pet is a Hickory Horned Devil Caterpillar that makes a lot of squeaking noises. Ottilie has a terrarium purse to always carry Squeaks around in.

Unlike other animal companions, Squeaks cannot be heard talking even by other animals oddly enough. But Ottilie can understand his squeaking as if they were words with no problem.

Squeaks is just as odd as his owner. Like a synchronized being, Squeaks gestures when Ottilie gestures.

Her unique magic is called, “Shroomy Sprout”. Just by touching a patch of dirt, she can grow mysterious mushrooms with a variety of effects.

Every mushroom always changes from every little thing she does such as what food she ate, how she felt and even if she was sick. The mushrooms don’t stay there for long and will disappear in a puff of smoke after 10 minutes if not used. 

Ottilie tends to use these mushrooms to make special perfumes that have different after effects depending on what mushroom she used. This type of perfume is not all that popular due to its unpredictability. They were probably used for pranks by a certain someone.

Ignacio Phosia

A Mathematics professor who is fascinated with numbers so much that he arranged his belongings in a certain amount if one plays close attention. His study is his perfectly counted space, he doesn’t like it if the number of items is in disarray. So, he is the only on who can clean his study and no one can enter without permission.

He manages the house budget of course due to his love for numbers. Many would often consult him about finances despite his eccentric personality. Ignacio is quite friendly and outgoing.

But despite being seen with a goofy grin, his smile turns into a scowl if his family is insulted in any way. Other than numbers, he can count the number of flaws and failures of a person had he wanted to. Fear the nice ones, as they say.

Ottilie often gives him perfume, bottled herbs and caterpillar eggs as gifts. Ignacio keeps them in in his study in the highest shelf where you could see but not reach.

Calix Phosia

She was known to be a popular woman who was often sought out by bachelors to wed. But she fell for Ignacio for being whimsical instead of vying for her status and reputation. She just loved how absurd he was and being such a gentleman on top of that.

She was the one who reads poems to Ottilie when she was a child. Which is how Ottilie developed a certain love for the whimsical wonders.

The character’s name, “Ottilie” came from a Google search for the most unique sounding names, while her last name, “Phosia” was made up from the word metamorphosis.

Ottilie’s first design was confusing. The pigtail-curl hairstyle was hard to draw repeatedly.

She was meant to be the weird one of the first-year group. She was supposed to have a butterfly as a pet but instead was given the largest caterpillar, the Hickory Horned Devil.

[thelightsandtheroses]

Secret Smile: Fall to Pieces (Chapter Six)

Secret Smile | Javier Peña x female reader

Summary: Before returning to Colombia to get things right this time, Javi’s childhood best friend asks him to keep an eye out for his sister while they’re both stationed in the embassy. Only you don’t need Javier to keep an eye you her. Your role as a new legal advisor is all about keeping an eye on him after all. Sparks fly, lines will be drawn and broken and there’s everything to lose.

Word Count: 3.3 k Chapter Warnings: 18+ blog, language, reader has a nickname (Blue) but no physical descriptors used Author Notes: As always, thank you for all your feedback, likes and reblogs so far – it means a lot and I’m having so much fun writing this fic. I’d love to know what you think of this next chapter so please feel free to comment, reblog or even send an ask!

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This is all too much. it’s not enough Blue is haunting him by working in the same embassy, in being assigned to be his glorified babysitter but to be living in the Tome apartment he used to live in?

Javi’s really pissed some karmic force off.

It was surreal, standing there in the Tome apartment he used to live in and suddenly flooded with all those memories while being aware that everything was slightly different, slightly out of place. There were different photos, different plants, different smells and personal touches. It was uncanny.

And then he’d almost kissed you.

He still can’t quite reconcile your reaction, can’t quite make sense of it all. It doesn’t matter though; it was a bad idea. A terrible idea even. There’s something in Javi - whenever he’s faced with those regrets and mistakes, whenever things seem to be going wrong, he wants to find solace in someone else. He did that with Katie, the intern, and he wanted to do that with you too.

Or was it more? He knows you, or at least knew you once. You’re part of his history, of his hometown. In Bogotá that makes you a spectre, reminding him of who he wanted to be, who he used to be. There’s something soothing yet so confusing about your presence right now.

He thinks about you, about what would have happened if you had kissed, the way your lips would have felt, how far it could have gone. Even now, every time you’re in the Tome room, he can feel the rising temptation, the desire to be closer to you, to be with you. He’s no longer immune to the smell of your perfume, to the way you look down at the ground for a microsecond before you smile, or how you fiddle with your necklace when you’re thinking about something. There’s something simultaneously fierce and vulnerable about you; that keeps you an enigma to him.

That moment in your home - at his old apartment - opened a door to something he was trying to keep locked away.

He’s glad nothing happened, glad he didn’t ruin everything with you as well. He probably would have.

That seems to be the way of things now.

Days have passed since the arrest and with them, an itching sensation has risen that things are going downhill. The pressure is slowly building, the tension mounting. Javi feels like he’s a lobster in boiling water, unable to escape and aware of what is coming and not sure whether there’s any fight left, or if he should just accept his fate.

He remembers the way the panic rose as he was called out in the meeting after the arrest; asked what his roadmap to victory was. This new role with its suits, ties and endless meetings? It’s not really him.

He can’t give up though. The names and faces of so many of the people he has let down in Colombia haunt him. Without someone like Martinez on his side too, Javi’s worried.

He needs results. He needs to find Jurado, to get more evidence. If he can’t do this, all the evidence his team has amassed, the progress he’s made, will collapse like a house of cards.

So, he asks Stoddard to play the wiretap tapes, tries to ignore how Stoddard reacts to that, pretends he didn’t hear Stoddard say you would not react well if you found out about this. Instead, he asks Stoddard about where he sees his career in five years if he asks others that question on the tapes’ legality and he feels the weight of the job add just a little more to his shoulders.

The odds are stacked against him, against bringing down this cartel.

What is he supposed to do?

“Please tell me this is a joke, your idea of humour perhaps?” you ask, voice acerbic and body taut.

Ever since you overhead Stoddard talking to one of your colleagues in thinly guided hypothetical scenarios a few hours ago, you’ve been waiting for this conversation. You had to sit through a meeting with your manager while quietly planning out everything you would calmly say to tear Javier Peña apart. It is a true skill to be able to do that while looking like you are listening to whatever the other person was saying.

In the past few hours, you have toyed with several reactions. From screaming at him in front of everyone to using that cold, deadly voice you only used at work when someone had really upset you. In some of your more extreme imagined responses, you have thrown the empty glasses in his office against the wall and roared too. However, that strikes you as a little excessive. You’ll save that for Plan C perhaps.

Monologues have been meticulously planned, edited, and rehearsed under your breath as you went about your day. You mentally experimented with the timbre of your voice as you spooned coffee into your mug, with exactly which words to use to best craft your argument, your admonishment.

Only now you’re here, facing Javi and it’s real.

“Blue, I-” Javi looks at you with those deep brown eyes, pleading somehow, but you refuse to fall for that.  He’s wearing one of those infuriating well-fitting shirts, the top button undone and tie loosened.

You almost kissed him …

You look over and notice the ash tray on his desk is once again filled with cigarettes and his desk is covered in scattered papers and files.

You know he’s been under pressure. Over the months, you’ve noticed the way he fidgets; the way he automatically moves his fingers when he’s nervous or under pressure. You know what the higher ups are asking of him, you know it’s a lot for one person to bear. To do what he’s done though? Any sympathy ebbs away.

“Because,” you continue, your voice venomous and arms folded, “after everything we’ve talked about, I know you wouldn’t knowingly instruct one of your team to conduct a wiretap like that, not without going through the correct processes. I know that, right? Because you’re not a complete fucking idiot.”

“I am trying to get a fucking case so we can stop the Cali cartel. Stop being naive!” Javi snaps, finally showing his real feelings. He’s not sorry, you know he isn’t, and that makes this even worse.

“By using an illegal wiretap? Do you have any idea what that could do to the case? Yes, of course you do which is why you didn’t tell me.”

“I was protecting you.”

“That’s not your job, Javi. My job is to protect this case and right now you’re hindering me.”

”Look, I know we can’t use the tapes -”

“Or anything from them! It’s fruit of the poisoned tree, Javier. This entire avenue of investigation isn’t so much on shaky ground as it is utterly destroyed. I - I don’t even know what to say to you right now.”

Your head is throbbing and you massage your temples to no avail.

“It took a while, but I am almost there with Franklin Jurado’s wife, Blue and then -”

“Oh, I bet you are,” you bite back.

“What’s that supposed to mean, huh?”

“What do you think?” you retort, completely lost to the argument at this point. Everything in you is saying to be calm, rational, to not let your emotions dictate but you are infuriated by what Javi has done.

It isn’t just about how ill-advised, how unethical it all is or how it could compromise your case. It’s because he did it anyway, knowing what your role was, knowing the position it would leave you in.

“I’m waiting on a - confirmation of something and then I’ll know where he is and we’ll get him. It’ll be solid. I have a plan.”

You sigh. “You better, Javi, you better.”

The parcel arrives the day after your confrontation with Javi. You immediately recognise the messy handwriting as one of your closest friends from back home, Shelley. Immediately it acts like a balm for your sharp edges and irritation.

To both your amusement and horror, during college she started dating one of your best friends from home, Carlos. Now the two of them are married and live in Laredo of all places. Shelley hosts a local radio show and while the people of your hometown generally seem to prefer more mainstream music to Nine Inch Nails, Shelley is persistently building a small, devoted following.

You miss them both. Shelley had made it clear that she had hoped you would come back to Texas when it was clear you needed to leave DC. She had even joked in your last phone call when you first arrived in Bogotá that she’d told you to go for a fresh start, a new job, but not to leave the damn country!

Over recent years, you’ve mostly ended up meeting outside of Laredo at concerts for bands you loved or last summer you’d all hired a house by the coast for a week. It had been you, Shelley, Carlos and Jamie, your now ex-boyfriend. 

The box has arrived at a perfect time. Javi and you were even more tentative around each other today. Yesterday’s frustration was so thick in the air you could taste it, feel it constricting around your body like insulation.

Beyond that, you’ve been riddled with doubts, anxieties, and unwanted memories since the near kiss. It’s like one moment has dropped you months into the past, back to a time you don’t want to think about.

You hate the double standards and hypocrisy at play, the assumptions you’re trying to prevent. You hate the politics of it all - the way you must prove yourself and prove yourself and never ever let a single vulnerability show while you’re at work.

You don’t open the box from your friends until you’re in your apartment, perched on the edge of your couch as you tentatively cut it open.

There are numerous packets of some of your favourite types of candy, several new paperbacks, three letters and most excitingly of all, two cassette tapes.

It’s funny how just a few small touches can immediately transport you somewhere else, can make you feel a little lighter.

You take in the three envelopes, one is clearly from Shelley, it looks the longest, the next is clearly from Carlos and is short but sweet. The other you can tell by the blocky handwriting is from Jamie. You’d spoken to him before you left for Colombia, told him that Shelley would be the best way to reach you if he wanted to.

You’ve never stayed friends with an ex before, but Jamie is different. You think the real indicator of this was that several months after your break-up when everything had kicked off in DC, he had been there for you, been a steady and calming presence when you were questioning everything and Shelley and Carlos were so far away. It’s probably part of the reason he’s still tolerated enough by Shelley and Carlos that they let him send his contribution to your care package via them, that they would even have reached out to him to get this or would have known you would be okay with that.

For a second you remember the time the four of you had met in New York to go to a concert for a band you all loved. Everything seemed simpler then - life, relationships, work.

You think about the adrenaline of this job; of how much your life has changed since then. Would you ever have imagined having dinner with Javi after he arrested a cartel leader back then?

This country is changing you slowly. Perhaps it’s not all for the bad either.

You open one of the packets of candy and the letter from Shelley first.

Shelley’s letter makes you feel like she’s right there in the room talking to you. You smile warmly at the memories of your friendship with her. Shelley’s always encouraged you, always been there for you, she’s been that supportive voice in all of those moments where you’ve wondered if you can do something. She’s been a friend you haven’t been able to shut out, who hasn’t let you push her away. You hope you represent something similar to her.

One passage stands out in letter because even in this moment, you can’t escape Javi.

Your brother says that a certain Javier Peña is out in Colombia too, which I didn’t think was a big deal but Carlos tells me definitely is. I think I saw him at Danny’s wedding and if I’m right, he is a tall glass of water. Do you see him at work? Tell me everything!

Well Shelley, you think, I completely messed up and almost kissed him, then rejected him and the man just leaves me completely confused. I may also have chewed him out spectacularly yesterday so I don’t think he’d ever want to kiss me again, even I wanted to.

You miss your friends; you wish you could more readily just phone Shelley and have a long talk over a glass of wine. You need to write back to her. Carefully, of course. There is so much that cannot be put in writing at all lest it fall into the wrong hands.  Words are slippery in a world like this; you can’t just say whatever you are thinking, but you can’t avoid replying either.

You can’t concentrate on the letters though. Your confrontation with Javi still rages through your veins - you’ve analysed everything you could have said differently, come up with several witty comebacks you missed and perhaps worst of all, in your mind you ended the discussion far more positively.

Maybe it wouldn’t be as bad if it wasn’t for the near kiss. That’s just as confusing in your mind too.

You were reckless with Javi. There is no way you can afford being seen that way here. It’s too close, too risky, too much. You have already left one job, fled the country once. If anyone from DC even heard whispers about what could have happened with you and Javi …

You scowl, trying to stop your spiral as quickly as possible. It’s okay, nothing has happened.

You take another piece of candy and sigh. You need to forget about what almost happened with Javi. For both of your sakes.

Willemstad is beautiful. The mix of painted buildings and blue ocean makes it look like paradise. You never expected that you would be somewhere like here on a work trip.

A couple of days ago, when Javi had told you he finally had located Jurado, you expected that you would just create the motions and legal briefs. You’d sit in your open plan office and listen out to hear whether the operation was successful. Only now you’ve been swept along with him to this amazing place and you feel a complete imposter.

You’re not an agent; you’re a lawyer. This isn’t like any courtroom or legal office you’ve encountered before.

“Stoddard’s confirmed all the logistics, right?” you ask as you start to walk towards the main police building with Javi, happy to be stretching your legs after the short flight.

“Yes. It should all be in place so you don’t need to worry about that. I wanted you here more for the Miami side - I need this guy on US soil as soon as possible and when he is -”

“We need a deal.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you think he’ll cooperate? Has the wife given any indication of that when you uh, spoke to her?”

“I think he has to. Fuck, Blue, for this to work then he has to. I need his testimony.”

You look at Javi. For a moment you’re taken aback to some of your initial thoughts about him in Bogotá; that he looked like Atlas with the weight of the world on his shoulders. How is it possible he looks even more burdened now?

“Let’s get it then. I’ll work on the paperwork while you arrest him.”

He’s covered in sweat, a grim smile on his face. The pink shirt he was wearing this morning, the one you thought looked infuriatingly good on him, is darkened with sweat.

“He’s arrested then?” you ask cautiously. You’d heard that Javi’s original plan to arrest him within the grounds of the bank was shut down by the police; apparently that wasn’t how things were done in Curacao. From Javi’s appearance it’s clear a chase has taken place.

Javi nods, running a hand through his sweaty hair and you wonder how easy the arrest was for him and the team. “We’re getting the plane ready and we’re going straight to Miami. The Ambassador said the extradition papers were set? Have you updated Justice?”

You point at a pile of papers in front of you. While Javi’s appears to have been chasing Jurado all around Curaçao, you’ve been stuck in this room typing up briefs and motions in preparation.

“We should have everything we need. I spoke to the Ambassador earlier and then the team in Miami before you came in and we’re all set,” you say, stifling a yawn as you stretch your legs. You’ve been sitting for too long.

You hand Javi your glass of water. He looks like he needs it more than you and he gratefully accepts, gulping it down. You try not to notice the rivulets of sweat on his neck as he does that.

“Have you spoken to Stoddard about the wife? The moment the cartel knows, Javi, they will - and if I were Franklin, I wouldn’t have a deal unless she was included and safe.”

“I know, I’m calling now. We’ve got to get this all in place before they know we have him.”

   It feels like you barely have time to collect your thoughts before you’re on a plane with Javi and Franklin Jurado on your way back to the United States.

You hear snippets of Javi’s conversations with Franklin as you walk back from the bathroom but you’re not paying attention to what is said. Instead you are intent on using the flight time to get ahead on the many other briefs and motions you need to complete, to test out the exact wording of the plea deal with Franklin Jurado, to complete the plans and decision trees for Justice and Jurado’s lawyers just in case.

You miss the courtroom.

You’ve realised that’s where you shine, where you feel able to most make a difference. This job, as varied, as unexpected as it is, is a step removed from that. It’s more about diplomacy, about briefings and managing interested parties and application of the law but not in a courtroom, not where you feel most at ease.

You can’t regret this job. There are so many parts where you feel you are adding value and you needed to leave DC regardless. This was the right decision.

Javi gets up from his seat, walking over and leaning over you from the aisle. You immediately put your file down and look at him.

“We’re landing in a few minutes. You ready for this, Blue? Is the deal ready?”

“Oh yes,” you say with a slight smile, “Now you’re in my wheelhouse, Javi.”

“Looking forward to it,” he says in a low voice.

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[graysonshmayson]

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BtheorytimeD 

OK HEAR ME OUT but I think I finally cracked the code on who these wackos are, and that is none other than the WAYNE FAMILY OF GOTHAM. 

Everyone and their mother has heard about Bruce Wayne, but a lot of people forget how lowkey fucked up his family life is! Starting from this beginning, Bruce Wayne tragically lost his parents, socialites Thomas and Martha. He was a total recluse for a while until he emerged eventually as a charming playboy. He can be a bit of an airhead, but he takes his company, Wayne Enterprises (WE) seriously and it's an old FAMILY BUSINESS. The ages are a little off, but very close to the ages Bruce was when he took in Dick Grayson after his parents died. The records are kept super private, but there was a leak a few years back and it came out that Wayne never technically adopted Grayson. He always called him his “ward”, which is a little outdated, but just means that Wayne was granted custody of Grayson. They’ve never spoken publicly about this. The only rub here is Grayson’s role in the company? Publicly, he took no such role aside from occasional trips to WE, press tours, and attending charity events. But WE is an incredibly vast private company with more sectors than I can count. It’s perfectly reasonable that he might have fulfilled a role we just don’t know about? Like maybe being Wayne’s assistant, or charming people into investing? All we know about the role is that it is dangerous, and doesn’t have to be a child but would be slightly strange if it wasn’t. Sort of stumped me, but I’ll get to it.

According to paparazzi and friend’s social media posts, Grayson moved out of Wayne Manor at 18, probably to go to college, because we know on his LinkedIn that he has several degrees. He kind of went dark during this time, which was hot gossip because he was a big teen heartthrob in Gotham and in the media and he just disappeared. Later that year, Wayne adopted Jason Todd. They kept his family history out of the papers for the most part, BUT I was able to do some digging and ask around Gotham because I know he was adopted from somewhere near the Crime Alley neighborhood (IK, it's like the most Gotham name for a neighborhood, sue us). According to some of Todd’s childhood friends and neighbors, his bio dad was out of the picture and his mom was an addict that OD’d ages ago. He abused, and everyone knew it, was functionally homeless for a time. We don’t know how long the adoption process was or exactly when it happened, but it is pretty self explanatory why Wayne, seeing a dark haired kid without parents in the same area where his parents were killed would fastrack that adoption, especially after Grayson just moved out. Also OP’s comment about J’s room situation tracks because how many people are well off enough to have several empty rooms? PLUS, Jason = J! It just makes sense. Jason later died when he was a teenager in a terrorist attack overseas on WE BUSINESS. Wayne fell out of the public eye for a while, understandably so. The only problem at this junction is that Jason Todd is still dead. Or IS HE? 

My loyal theorists know that I talk about a lot of urban legends/events in my hometown of Gotham and this is one that I haven’t been able to touch on a lot. What if Jason Todd is still alive? Here’s some evidence: Wayne was incredibly quiet about Todd’s death. We’re talking closed casket, no PUBLIC FUNERAL (the dad not inviting OP? Ringing any bells?). Plus, no public funeral for the young son of BRUCE WAYNE is crazy optics-wise!! Plus, there's lots of speculation about some photos that look suspiciously like Todd. This is around Gotham, and AT WAYNE FUNCTIONS. There is this guy in Gotham that has maybe vitiligo or something (which, admittedly, we don’t know if Todd had, but this guy just has a white streak in his hair), but he’s built like a tank and has all these scars. Very scary looking, very RBF. Definitely could be a vengeful person that survived an accident. He has been seen at Wayne events, usually not very social, and has been seen with the Wayne boys around Gotham. A lot of people thought he was a bodyguard, but it could totally be Todd!

I’m not sure exactly why they wouldn’t have announced his return, but it could have something to do with how he got involved with crime. It is no secret that violence, drug trafficking, and just like all crime are rampant in Gotham. It’s also well known that the Wayne family had plenty of mob connections in the past, the most recent being Thomas Wayne’s association with Carmine “The Roman” Falcone, the biggest mob boss in Gotham at the time. Is it so hard to believe that Todd could have utilized these connections to start and continue his life of crime? If he really wanted to get back at his dad, using these connections would be the ultimate spit in the face as Wayne has declared public disdain for the mobs in Gotham. Even if this disdain isn’t true, something we have to keep in mind is that J expects OP’s dad to KILL the man that was behind his death. He believed Bruce Wayne capable of murder and EXPECTED him to do it. It's not hard to speculate how a billionaire could have someone killed, but for Bruce Wayne to kill someone is unthinkable to many. He’s the shining star of our city, Gotham’s certified babygirl and daddy wrapped into one. His philanthropy is staggering and life changing, especially compared to other billionaires and elites. We’re talking about a man known to pay off his barista’s student loans and provide housing to entire homeless camps. I doubt anyone could get away with framing Wayne for murder, so what does J know that we don’t? Perhaps he was expecting him to use his family mob connections to avenge his son's death? But he didn't, OP's dad is someone capable of finding and killing criminals, but refused to. Sounds like a billionaire philanthropist to me.

Here’s where I make a couple leaps. We just don’t know enough about T in the story to make too many connections, but we do know this: T’s father was in an accident and later died. T spent a lot of time with OP’s dad. Then T was then adopted. That brings me to Tim Drake, the third adopted Wayne boy. Note the T in Tim, there. Drake’s biological father was indeed hospitalized and confined to a wheelchair. Classmates and teachers in his high school confirm that Drake was acting out a lot in school and had a strained relationship with his dad. Drake often showed up to school with bruises that he didn’t explain away very well, and it was known that he spent a lot of time with Bruce Wayne. There was actually some concern about it! After Tim’s father died, he was adopted by Bruce Wayne. The problem here is that we don’t have anything that corroborates Tim being T when it comes to interpersonal stuff with OP and his dad. 

OP  says he had established a life in another city by the time T came around asking him to come back. At the age OP was in this post, Dick Grayson was living in Bludhaven, and joined the police force there, a city less than an hour away from Gotham. Totally feasible for a 14 year old kid. He also said that “our line of work” was dangerous, implying that he’s still involved with the occupation he worked with his dad and with his friends after he moved out. It’s possible that he had some sort of side hustle going, but honestly the hardest part about this theory is figuring out what the hell he actually does independent of WE. There’s also Wayne’s mental state to consider. Wayne has never spoken about his own mental health as an adult and OP makes some pretty serious allegations to his fathers mental state and self destructive behavior. We don’t see Wayne exhibit these things. The closest thing we have is anecdotal evidence from many sources that Wayne is incredibly flaky and cancels last minute to events all the time. Could this be him neglecting himself and throwing everything he has into WE?

Moving onto the “Stealing my dad’s son” post, this has SO MUCH INFO. D enters the scene as  a young kid, after an old fling drops him off, which is so clearly DAMIAN WAYNE. Come ON people!!!! We don’t know a lot about how Damian came into his father's custody, but we do know that he was 10 years old and that Bruce Wayne sleeps around. It’s really not surprising that a surprise baby came out of that. We have next no info about Damian’s previous family situation, but he was kept out of the public eye for SO LONG and first hand interactions found him to be abrasive, violent, cocky, and note his overly formal vocabulary. Definitely the type of person to tell his adopted brother to “remember who the blood son is”. Plus, classmates of Damian have expressed how truly odd he is to talk to because of his vocabulary, that is if you can get through a conversation without him threatening to end your bloodline. Typical kid stuff. Sounds very culty to me personally. The whole thing about reconciling his image of his grandfather who he idolized (could have been the cult leader), Wayne seemingly going NC with Damian’s mom, and how hush hush his past is matches very neatly to the cult idea. And there’s like no records at ALL of Damian before he was 10 years old. It could also explain why the dad didn’t trust D for so long, after all that cult brainwashing

Plus some little details lineup here. T being “too much like him”? Tim was literally CEO for a time. OP scorning him? Dick was not seen in Gotham for like a year after he moved out. D is mouth and precocious? Damian is described as a child genius with a very sharp tongue. Around the time of the post, Drake was seen in Gotham less and less, eventually moving to Bludhaven, matching up with how he is no longer working with his father. Plus, Grayson was spotted in Gotham a lot more right before and for a while after Wayne announced Damian Wayne, which correlated with OP sticking around to help train D.

Now for the hard part: OP’s dad was presumed dead and Bruce Wayne is not. Oh, did I say hard? I meant super EASY. I’m not going to bore you with too many corporate details, here but in short Bruce Wayne was missing and Wayne Enterprises COVERED IT UP. Oh, you want evidence? 

March 25th. Bruce Wayne leaves the country on a BUSINESS TRIP. There’s no records about exactly what he’s doing overseas. Bruce Wayne does not step foot on american soil for MONTHS. The public line for the company was that he was on a work trip negotiating a deal and then decided to extend the trip for a long overdue vacation, but emails among board members speculate otherwise. There was a lot of concern about his well being and that his excuses were flimsy. They needed him to come back and he refused. If you look at WE market fluctuations, you can see that stock took a decent hit during this time. Company emails also confirm that no one had talked to Wayne outside of his general statements and very rare board meeting. So, Wayne wasn’t appearing in public, no one spotted him overseas, and he wasn’t running his company. So where was he?

Well, if he disappeared “on the job” like OP said, it makes a lot of sense. We know he was negotiating some sort of deal, and any Gothamite knows that if there's one thing Bruce Wayne is gonna do, he’s gonna get kidnapped. This man is kind, a little stupid, and insanely rich. He is the PERFECT candidate to hold for ransom, but the Bat couldn’t save him overseas. The stock was already taking a hit from his absence, and if they announced he was missing, it would have gotten SO much worse. There’s also the fact that Damian and Wayne’s butler moved out of Wayne Manor and to the penthouse on Wayne Towers. Why would they move out if he was just on vacation? Dick Grayson also left Bludhaven around this time, and there are tons of paparazzi shots of him with Damian in Gotham. 

ONTO THE FAQ. The details added on OP’s updated, answering questions, only support this case, so I’ll do them rapid fire. The dad took therapy consistently when he was young, and I know this is a stretch, but possibly Brruce Wayne’s grief counseling? The only people that live with OPs dad are 2 of the 6 kids and their grandpa. RIght now, Bruce lives with Damian, and his new adoptee Duke Thomas. Them along with OP and his two other brothers only account for 5 of the Wayne children. If only Wayne had another adopted child- OH WAIT HE DOES. She’s not mentioned in the posts (probably because she's an unproblematic queen), but a few years back, Wayne adopted one Cassandra Cain. The grandpa is admittedly a tough one to explain away, but I think it could mean Alfred Pennyworth, the Wayne Family butler. We all know that Wayne’s parents are dead, BUT Pennyworth was granted custody of Wayne after his parents were killed, meaning he raised him since childhood. He would totally be a grandfather figure to the Wayne kids,a dn the phrasing is sort of odd; “he has no family and lives alone now except for 2 of us kids and our grandpa”. No family but the kids have a grandpa? Sounds like a surrogate father to me. 

The only difficult thing to account for in the FAQ is Bruce Wayn being a “haven for wayward teens”. It is no secret that Wayne picks up orphans off the street of Gotham like nobody’s business, but the phrasing seems to imply that there are teens that he works with that aren’t legally his kids. I couldn’t find anything about Wayne working extensively with any youth groups, youth shelters, or nonprofits that would put him in consistent contact with young people. There are some individuals that hang around the family a lot though! Stephanie Brown dated Tim Drake and despite their breakup, still is with the family a lot . Brown is also from the streets of Gotham, went to school in Gotham Heights (so, lower tax bracket). Classmates said her father was in prison and there were rumors that her mother was an addict. She got pregnant as a teenager before giving up the baby for adoption. The point is, she definitely fits the wayward teen bill. Harper and Cullen Row also seem troubled, emancipated from their father and often appearing in public with bruises. Tons of rough looking teens are seen with the Waynes. Yeah, it’s a bit of a tough fit, and these could just be the kids' friends, but I think it's completely plausible that even if they are friends of the Wayne kids, Bruce took some responsibility to help them out. 

The most difficult part of all of this is trying to figure out WHAT the job is that OP made. It’s gotta be something nonessential, but helpful (because it didn't exist before him), would be weird if an adult did it, and can be fulfilled by children. I cannot at all wrap my head around what WE needs for all these teens and sometimes literal children to help with? Is it just like, intern work? My first idea was that it was to use the child card to get investors or cooperation with other entities but I honestly can’t see Wayne pimping out the kids like that. Which leads to the final twist in my theory: the Waynes are still linked to the Mobs in Gotham, and BATMAN. 

Think about it. Thomas Wayne and Carmine Falcone were close associates, and the Waynes are the oldest and wealthiest family in Gotham that we have on public record on being corrupt. Those ties go VERY deep. Thomas Wayne was a good egg, but it's a known fact that Bruce doesn't approve of his mob connections. But criminals are persistent, so I think that Bruce Wayne is trying to take down the mob from the inside. He gets insider information, funds things here and there and then gives the information to Batman, in exchange for protection. This is why he gets saved so fast by Batmans whenever he gets kidnapped, held hostage, etc. It would make sense how Dick, as a child, was able to sneak around or appear innocuous while gathering information. As he got older, he also got very charming, something that would help him get out of binds when he lost the baby factor. It makes sense why kids should take the job, even though it's dangerous, and why wayward teens, often with first hand experience with the violence and issues created by criminals, would give insight and street smarts where Wayne lacks it. It could also explain why he was hesitant to take T on; Tim Drake is from a wealthy family, so he had to prove he could do the job. How did he know about the Job? Probably from a gala or something, high society gossip. Drake was no Wayne, but he was RICH RICH. Again, these connections also explain how J was easily allowed to slip into a life of crime and why he was so mad at the dad for not avenging him. 

These also support my working the idea that Batman is a soldier for the elites of Gotham and our shadow government! If Bruce Wayne is giving information to Batman, it makes sense that he’s also funding him. As many jokes as we make about Wayne being Batman’s sugar daddy, I really think this idea has merit. BUT I am from Gotham, and I center a lot of my theories around my city so maybe some of this is wishful thinking? But I think a LOT of this stuff adds up objectively!!! Anyways, I stand by it, let me know what you think!

⇧ 20k 

SuperFun1229 OP

Oh…. oh my god. Congrats on being my favorite reply because the fuck dude, you are insane for this one. 

⇧ 8k

BtheorytimeD

THAT WASN’T A NO 

⇧ 14k 

burnerhardlyknowher

uhhhhh hey dude. It’s me, you know, T. my lovely boyfriend showed me this post and i IMMEDIATELY made this account to. dude, i cannot BELIEVE you made a reddit AITA thread about us 😭😭😭. i promise u guys im not a victim lmaoooo

my brother, dear OP has neglected to share some interesting details about D, like how he LITERALLY TRIED TO MURDER ME. like pushed me off a roof and tried to stab me multiple times, he wasn’t just sad he was so dangerous.

everyone here says we need boundaries (so real) but i’m gonna tell everyone and J will probably kill you <3

can't wait to hear more updates on our wackadoodle life from you 👍

P.S. some of ur ideas are spot on yall should be detectives

⇧ 18k 

SuperFun1229 OP

IN HIS DEFENSE HE FEELS BAD ABOUT THAT NOW. 

⇧19k

Burnerhardlyknowher

He’s told you that?

⇧ 8k

SuperFun1229 OP

It’s been implied 

⇧17k 

BBomshell01

ASHDHJDHJK OP T SHOWED ME THIS I CANT BELIEVE U FRFR…. Didn't even mention me 💔💔. I just wanna say that we all forgive D for trying to kill T that was soooo forever ago we’re all passed it, he just liked being bitter. Anyway NTA, ur dad can be soso mean and harsh, especially back in the day. But like so can you? Idk you can do the same things when it comes to not trusting people so keep an eye on yourself 💕 

⇧ 15k 

SuperFun1229 OP

I always knew you would find this. 

⇧ 5k

_Boom5482

 U were seriously beefing with 12 yo me 😂grow up

⇧ 11k 

SuperFun1229 OP

You CANNOT make fun of me for this shit you’ve fr tried to shoot me for no reason and tried to kill T at like 15 for the same thing 😭 you have no place to talk 

⇧ 11k 

_Boom5482

And i’d do it again

⇧ 9k