#but even with the family i do still have in my life. it's gonna be a big adjustment preiod because i Know theyre still pretending im a girl

[pitviperofdoom]

High School Time Travelers, Part 2

It's finally here! Follow up to this story.

***

“So. Spill. What the fuck is going on with you and Angelique?”

Raph fidgeted uncomfortably, and something within Erin roared out in protest at that. They were in her room, surrounded by her clutter and band posters and the stuff he kept at her house to keep his mom from throwing it away. He wasn’t supposed to be uncomfortable here.

Eventually, he took a deep breath. “I time-traveled last night.”

“I’m serious—”

“So am I,” he said wearily. “I woke up in a house I haven’t set foot in for years, across the hall from someone I promised myself I’d never talk to again. It happened, and if you’re stuck on that part then this conversation can’t continue.”

Erin got up and paced her room, kicking aside her backpack, nearly knocking over the guitar stand in the corner. “What the fuck.”

“That’s what I said.”

“What the fuck, Raph.”

“I didn’t mean to!”

The absurdity hit her instantly—he didn’t mean to time travel, as if they were talking about him forgetting his homework or getting in Monica Dillon’s way during passing period. She wanted to laugh.

But then she remembered some of the weird things Angelique had said—about friendships imploding, about college, about shit not mattering in high school, all with the easy certainty of experience.

“Prove it,” she said. “Can you do that thing where you predict what I’m about to say?”

“I’m not stuck in a time loop, dumbass, yesterday I was thirty-three!” Raph snapped. “I had to go through math class trying to pretend I still remembered my teacher’s name!”

“Okay, okay, Jesus.” Erin held up her hands placatingly. “There’s gotta be something.”

Raph sighed, rubbing his forehead. “I dunno. Anything meaningful and unchangeable I can remember won’t happen for a while, so if you’re willing to wait for the Trump presidency or the global pandemic, there’s that.”

“The what.”

“Wait, who’s president right now? It’s still Bush, right?”

Erin pulled a face.

“Next one’s Barack Obama, he’s gonna do two terms,” Raph informed her. “First black president.”

“Oh, huh. Cool,” Erin said faintly.

“Let’s see, what else, um… Balloon Boy? Has Balloon Boy happened yet?”

“No, what the fuck is Balloon Boy?”

Raph brightened. “Yeah, so at some point this family is gonna release like, a homemade weather balloon? Or something? And there’s gonna be this huge panic because they think their son is stuck inside it, but then it turns out he was fine and hiding in the basement the whole time and it was a hoax.”

“Okay, I’ll keep an eye out for that I guess?” Erin sat down again. “You’re seriously not fucking with me right now?”

“I mean, if you want, we could forget this conversation ever happened,” Raph offered. “Continue with our normal lives, while I keep under-reacting to devastating world events.”

“Christ, I don’t know.” Erin pressed her palms into her eyes. After a moment, she lifted her head again. “Wait a minute, we’re getting off track. What does this have to do with Angelique?”

Raph’s silence could not have been louder.

“Raph,” Erin said, a little desperately.

“First you have to promise you won’t be mad,” said Raph.

“Did you sleep with her in the—” Erin paused to do some arithmetic in her head. “—eighteen years between then and now?!”

“She’s my wife,” Raph blurted out.

Moments later, Erin’s mother knocked politely on the bedroom door. “Everything okay in there?” she asked. “That’s an awful lot of screaming for a Tuesday night.”

Erin continued howling into her pillow. “She’s fine, Mrs. Yokota!” Raph called. “We’re looking at—uh—creepypastas!”

“Creepy what?”

“Uh—crap, are they still called that?—like, ghost stories and stuff!”

Placated, she left them to it. Eventually Erin recovered enough to lie back and stare listlessly at the ceiling.

“Dude.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“What the fuck is your life?” Erin demanded. “How did that even happen?”

“We ran into each other at—so my friend Hazel got roped into being in their college roommate’s bridal party and dragged me along for moral support, and Angelique was in the same friend group but with like six degrees of separation from us,” Raph explained. “It took half the reception for her to recognize me because at that point I’d been on T for a few years, but the second she realized we went to the same high school she turned fishbelly-white, pulled me aside, and apologized for how much of a bitch she was back then. It was really awkward.”

Back then, he called it, even though for Erin it was still right now. “And you married her?”

“Like eight years later, yeah.” Raph ran his hand through his hair, not quite hiding the small smile that stole over his face. “She really turned over a new leaf.”

Erin was silent for a while, mulling over this new information, combining it with what she already had from that afternoon.

“Is your name still Raphael?” she asked. “She sounded really surprised about it. And I know you said you were just taking the name on a trial run, but you really seemed to like it. Not that there’s—you know,” she added. “I know that—just because I picked it, I knew you might not… you know. It’s fine, I was just wondering. If I should call you something else.”

“I did—I do like it,” Raph assured her. “But, uh, some stuff happened. My dad found me.”

Erin’s eyebrows shot upward. “Wait, really? What’d he have to say for himself?”

“That Mom ghosted him when she got pregnant because her side guy had more money.”

“Dude, fuck your mom.”

“Don’t fuck my mom, she’ll ghost you for money, weren’t you listening?”

Erin burst out snickering. “Fuck, sorry, this isn’t funny.”

“It will be in eighteen years,” Raph said with a wry smile. “Hindsight. Anyway, he found me in—he’s gonna find me in two years unless I reach out first. He’s a good guy. My stepmom’s pretty cool, too. And I have sisters? So that’s awesome. And yeah, he had this friend who passed away when he was younger, and he always wanted to name his son after him, but then Mom disappeared and he only ended up having daughters, so when he found me, it kind of worked out.” He hesitated. “I’m Damian. Damian Raphael Harker.”

“That’s such a cool name,” Erin sighed.

Raph—Damian—tilted his head back to grin at her. “Yours is cool, too.”

“Shut up,” she said fondly.

“No, seriously,” he said emphatically. “Your name is unspeakably cool.”

There was something odd in his tone, sticking up and catching like a loose nail. It bothered her, the same way something Angelique said earlier had bothered her.

“Hey, Ra—Damian?” Erin said cautiously. “Earlier, when Angelique sat down with us, she didn’t recognize me.”

“She does, don’t worry.”

“No, she didn’t,” Erin pressed. “It took her a second to realize who I was, and she stopped herself from saying why.”

Suddenly Damian looked deeply uncomfortable. “I, uh.”

She took a deep breath. “Was I dead in your time?”

“Wh-no! No no no no, of course not!” Damian looked horrified. “We played Pathfinder like last week, you’re not dead.”

“What’s Path—no, never mind. Something’s clearly up. If we just played whatever-that-is last week, and Angelique is your wife, then why didn’t she know who I was?”

“Uh…” Damian’s hands had worked their way deep into his sleeves. “You look different, that’s all. You kind of reinvented yourself in college.”

“Oh,” Erin said, momentarily relieved. Then— “Wait.”

“What?’

“Damian. You’d—” She hesitated. “If I was a guy, you’d tell me, right?’

“Oh my God,” Damian mumbled into his be-sweatered hands.

“Damian.”

“You’re... not...”

“You’d tell me, right?”

“See, I don’t know if I would!” Damian answered, in a strained high-pitched tone. “That’s—look. If you were a guy, that’s something you’d have to work out for yourself!”

“Damian, I swear to God.”

“I can’t crack your egg for you, that’s like violating the Prime Directive!”

Erin seized a pillow and started to buffet him with it. “You are such a nerd!”

“It’s your personal journey, you can’t use me to cheat!” Damian cackled, fending her off with a plush horse.

***

“Yeah I’ll get the banana split.” Angie bounced on the balls of her feet, eyes raking over the array of toppings. “Can you put caramel and chocolate sauce on it? And Heath bar pieces, chopped strawberries, and M&Ms.”

“Yeah, sure thing.”

It took all of her self-control not to press her nose against the glass as she watched them make it. Some small part of her balked at the sight of three huge scoops of ice cream and all the toppings, but she quieted it. She had a second shot at being a teenager, and that meant never taking her garbage disposal stomach and body made of rubber bands for granted ever again.

She hummed absently to herself, only to pause halfway through the tune. How did it go again? She tried repeating the first half, only to get stuck at the same spot. Oh, this was going to bug the crap out of her. It wasn’t like she could look it up, not when the song wouldn’t come out for almost ten years—

Her phone vibrated in her purse, and she checked it absentmindedly, zeroing in for a moment on the DAD displayed on the screen. After a moment, she put it back without answering. If it was that important, he could text.

Sure enough, her phone gave a short buzz. New text message—he hadn’t even bothered to leave a voicemail.

DADI need you to talk to your brother.

Angie checked her banana split’s progress with a glance, and replied.

lol why

DADHe’s not listening to me. We both know the courts favor the mother so if we’re going to beat her I need both of you on your A game.

Angie ground her teeth until her jaw creaked.

what do you need me to do

DADJust coach him on how to talk about her. You’re a smart lady, I know you can do it. He’s always getting scuffed up at practice, just have him say the bruises came from her. Throw in a drinking problem if you have to, just keep your stories straight.

why father dearest i’m surprised at youyou want me to lie under oath?

DADJust talk to him, will you? Keep your stories straight, don’t get too outlandish, and we’ll get out of this with everything we want. You’ll never have to hear the word no again, I promise.

ok daddy ill do my best!

DADGood girl. You’re the smartest girl I know. Smarter than your mom, smarter than her bitch lawyer. Love you!

“Order up!”

Angie brought her banana split to the table with the clearest view of the door. It took her a moment to decide how to begin, then nearly a full minute balancing equal parts ice cream, banana, and toppings in a single spoonful. She managed it in the end.

Mood lifted, she unlocked her phone again and made a call. “Heeeey, Anika.”

“Need I remind you that phone calls are billable,” her mother’s lawyer said dryly.

“Yeah, I’ll be quick, I have some incriminating text messages I think you’ll be interested in?”

The sound of rustling papers paused. “Go on…?”

“Dad just told me to lie to the judge,” Angie explained, twirling a thin ribbon of caramel around her spoon. “And to coach Eric to lie to the judge. I took screenshots.”

Anika cursed softly under her breath. “Thank you for telling me. Send them to your mom, okay? Thank you.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

The bell above the ice cream parlor door jingled, and Angie perked up as both Damian (Raph?) and Erin walked in. She waved them over, grinning when both pairs of eyes widened at her treat.

“That thing’s half the size of your head,” Erin pointed out.

“Sure is, you guys came just in time.” Angie nudged it across the table, along with the two extra spoons. “If we split it, I’ll have enough room for a milkshake chaser.”

“You’re a monster,” Damian said delightedly. “Oh shit, are those Heath bars?” He dug in without waiting for an answer.

“They’re peanut butter cups,” she said solemnly, once he’d taken a bite and could probably tell they weren’t. “I added them just to hurt you.” Damian rolled his eyes and dug his spoon back in.

Erin stared at her, probably still baffled by the gentle banter, but at least she looked more curious than infuriated, like instead of being suspicious she simply didn’t know what to make of Angie.

“So, you guys talked?” Angie asked carefully. “Are we… all good?”

“I think so,” Damian replied, shooting a cautious glance at Erin.

“You’re on thin ice,” Erin informed her as she helped herself to the chocolate scoop.

“Fair.” Angie didn’t remember Erin putting up quite as much of a fight, but then, it had been years when they’d reconnected before. This time around, it was still fresh.

“The ice cream helps,” Erin added, slightly muffled by the spoon in her mouth.

“Noted.” Angie paused, weighed her options, and shrugged. No harm no foul, probably. “Hey, you’re a musician, right?”

Erin swallowed. “Yeah, why?”

“And not just a performer, but you write music too, right?”

“Yeeaaah?” Erin squinted suspiciously. Beside her, Damian shot Angie a warning glare.

“If I give you half a tune, could you resolve it?”

Erin was staring at her like she’d grown a second head. “Probably.”

“Great!” Angie hummed the earworm from earlier. “How would the next part go?”

Erin repeated it to herself, nodding along. After a moment, she said, “Probably like—”

And sure enough, there it was. The rest of the chorus’s tune came rushing back to Angie’s memory, and she breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Thanks! That was driving me nuts.” Angie returned to her banana split, ignoring Damian’s growing scowl.

Later, when Erin was in the bathroom and  Angelique was standing in line to order her promised milkshake, Damian dug his elbow into her side. “You’re not as slick as you think you are,” he muttered.

“What?” Angie said innocently. “I didn’t give anything away.”

“You just taught her half the chorus of a song she’s eight years away from writing!”

“I’ve planted a seed,” Angie insisted. “I’ve created a stable time loop.”

“That is not what you did and you know it.” Damian pursed his lips, clearly trying to stay annoyed with her. “I barely avoided spoiling her transition, and that’s after she asked me to my face.”

Angie grinned. “So you haven’t told her she’s a genderfluid punk rocker yet?”

“No. Because she’s not a genderfluid punk rocker yet.”

“And now, when she becomes one,” Angie said with a smile, “she’s going to look back on this day and laugh.”

[sweetestcaptainhughes]

“Don’t touch me. We’re fighting.”

Quinn pleaseeee 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

I'm gonna put a warning on this because I like it so I don't feel like rewriting it. Warning: shitty relationship with father.

Drabble Masterlist

"Don't touch me. We're fighting."

Quinn didn't seem to care that you were pissed. But pissed didn't even describe the soreness in your jaw from clenching it so tight or the fact that your body temperature was elevated or that all you wanted to do was scream. Glancing over as he stood on the other side of the kitchen island, his face was as it always was calm, his thoughts were probably collected while your brain was firing off things to add to the fire if needed, he looked like he was in control of his body while yours was being controlled by the rage inside you. Looking at Quinn only pissed you off more so you just looked away.

After a minute, you decided it was best to walk away and cool off before you said something you'd regret. Quinn on the other hand, wasn't done fighting he wanted you to understand his point of view and he didn't wanna wait till morning. As you made your way down the hall you could hear Quinn's footsteps behind you.

"Wait Y/N, Let me explain." He went to gently touch your arm in hopes that you would stop walking away from him.

He got his wish, you turned around talking through your teeth you grunted. "Don't touch me. We're fighting."

Quinn has never pulled away from you so quickly before. Even with how angry you were at him it still hurt you how fast he pulled away. Quinn was looking at the floor, for the first time showing emotion since your fight started. "I was just trying to help."

All you could do is sigh. "By telling my father off?" you question defeat clear in your voice. "Quinn I've been over this with you, my family isn't like your family. You can't just voice your opinions to my dad, especially if it's you disagreeing with him or his choices."

Quinn looked up at you finally, he frowned his eyebrows in annoyance but you knew it wasn't at you. "Well I am mad at him. He shouldn't be allowed to talk down to you and blame you for not getting along with your stepmom when all she does is talk down to you. I couldn't sit there and let her talk down to you at dinner. Okay. And I guess I'm sorry for how it came up, but I am not sorry for standing up for you."

"Quinn I know you were trying to stand up for me. But I don't need you or anyone to stand up for me, especially against my family. Okay?" you ask waiting for him to acknowledge you.

"No. I'm sorry because how can you let them tell you that you aren't as far in your career as you should be as if they helped at all with the cost of college. Or the fact that all they did all dinner was telling you everything you were doing wrong with your life?" His tone was accusing and you found yourself taking a step back, your body was exhausted and all you wanted to was get out of this ichy dress and go to bed.

"I don't wanna have this conversation tonight." you begged.

"I just don't understand why do you even keep him around Y/N!"

"Okay since you seem to not be able to understand why I let them talk that way to you let me explain it to you so we never have to talk about this again got it?" you ask waiting for Quinn to nod his head before you continue. "Look my dad might be a piece of shit, but guess what he's my piece of shit father not anyone else's. Everyone always ask me for years 'Y/N if I were you, I'd cut him off why don't you.' For a long time I didn't have an answer for them but as I got older I do and it's this. Because he might be a piece of shit but without him I wouldn't be standing here physically because he is physically half of me. And I know you have lovely parents Quinn and brothers. But not everyone does and I am terrifed that if I do cut him out all the way vs seeing him three times a year like I do now. That one day I will get a call and he will be dead and I will have regret for not at least having him in some capactiy in my life. So because of that fear of regret because I know many people who have it now since their parents passed. I keep him around and if you can't understand that fine, not everyone does."

Taking a step closer to Quinn you add, "but whether you agree or not, you don't get to judge me for the choices I've made when it comes to the relationship between my father and I. Because that is exactly what it is." Pointing to yourself. "It's MY relationship not yours and you also don't get to make it more shaky then it already is by yelling at him in the middle of the steakhouse."

Quinn and you aren't sure how long you stood in your apartment hallway, it could of been seconds it could of been minutes. At some point Quinn looked at you and said "agree to disagree." All you did was nod and you both said true to your word you never talked about your father and your relationship ever again.

[illusioncanthurtme]

I was thinking about something yesterday and that comic only solidified the thought. This is gonna be a ramble, I apologize in advance, I'm sorry.

But anyway, I made a post a few weeks ago about how fiddleford must have REALLY wanted to get away from his family in order to stick around in that psychological thriller for so long. (Someone commented on that post with a fucking manuscript and it was AWESOME and they deleted it and I'm sad about it. But that's neither here nor there) The thing I was thinking about yesterday was how ***CRAZY*** Ford was for bill, if he was going to question his trust for fiddleford, his LONG TIME FRIEND he's known since COLLEGE, in favor for a fucking demon!! What!!! He was so so so down bad for bill you guys. It actually reeks of cult-like manipulation if I'm being honest. Bill really did wiggle his way into ford's brain and he set up camp.

But the other thing I was thinking about... the portal required radioactive waste to power. Fiddleford had to have known about this, since he contributed in building the thing. He had to of known how it worked. So... was Ford playing up some sort of lie to fiddleford??? That their project was actually funded and vetted by something?? That he was getting the stuff legally?? Or did fiddleford know that Ford was STEALING RADIOACTIVE WASTE?? My personal thought here is that it was a lie - even though fiddlfords home life was shaky, and he wanted to leave because his marriage was circling the drain, I don't think he would agree to doing something illegal. He still cared about his family and wouldn't want to do something that could put him in jail, put his family in a position of having their provider taken away, AND put government eyes on them.

And you KNOW that shit was illegal. The entirety of the portal. And you know dang well Stanley knew that shit was criminal, he KNOWS what an undercover operation looks like. Otherwise none of it would be kept a secret.

So my thinking is that it was a lie, and eventually that lie came out. Maybe when Ford was especially sleep deprived or weird cuz of bill. He blurted out something about having to steal the waste in the name of science. And fiddleford did a double take. But of COURSE fidds is already in so so deep, and he's pining so bad for Ford, and the thought of going back home at this point is unbearable, and they've made it this far, etc etc. Shits absolutely crazy when you think about it.

THAT BEING SAID my knowledge of gravity falls is mostly limited to the show and book of bill, so if there's info I'm missing, let me know!! Maybe I'm wrong about this. But the backstory we've been painted here with the stan twins, fiddleford, and bill is absolutely bonkers, and you can read into that shit for DAYS.

[welivetodream]

✨ My BSD hot takes/unpopular opinions ✨:

1. Identifying BSD characters as Queer, is not problematic. STOP being so Heteronormative. Gay characters are not gonna kill you.

If I see another "BuT tHe ChArAcTeRs nEvEr SaId tHeY aRe GaY" I would bomb you 💣/j

2. Skk/SSKK/Fyolai/other popular ships, exist because people like it. If you don't ship them, don't engage with their content. Not all shippers act crazy and toxic. Stop blaming everything on shippers.

3. Atsushi/Kyouka is problematic, stop justifying it with "only 4 year age gap". Kyouka is a CHILD, ship her with Kenji if you want. Atsushi, like a normal 18 year old would never look at a highschool freshman and date her. Even if they date in the future, he knew her when she was younger and they had a sibling like dynamic. Lucy is a way better love interest to Atsushi (Don't know if this is an unpopular opinion tho, but I saw some people justifying it 😐😐😐)

4. DAZAI IS NOT EVIL. HE IS FAR FROM EVIL. He is, despite being super popular and the face of BSD, the most mischaracterized and villified character. Morally grey characters exist??!!!

5. Mori is a way worse person than Dazai ever was.

6. PM members get a free pass for any heinous crime they commit by being hot or babygirl-ified (still love them tho, we do not often discuss how bad their actions have been, you can like criminals and acknowledge they are criminals in fiction. I would add DoA to this too, but it's worse with the PM)

7. Akutagawa's abuse of Kyouka shouldn't be forgotten just because Dazai abused Akutagawa.

8. Mori emotionally manipulated and abused Dazai when he was a teen. Just because it wasn't physical, doesn't mean it was nothing.

9. Atsushi is NOT a soft boy, he is way bitter, salty and sarcastic than we give him credit

10. Poe is important to Ranpo and their friendship/relationship is wholesome as hell

11. Ranpo and Yosano's friendship is way better than them being in a relationship in the future

12. FukuFuku is better than Fukumori (imo!!!!)

13. Buying real authors work after watching BSD is actually a really good thing, since more Gen z kids (or other people) will read classics

14. There are layers to Atsushi and Akutagawa relationship/rivalry, and they have the MOST important relationship (not meaning romantic, just in general) in the entire canon.

15. Kunikida and Yosano could be a power couple

16. Fyodor is not a great villain (yet)

17. Nikolai CARRIES the DoA

18. Sigma shouldn't be in the ADA, he needs a happy home, family and some time to adjust to normal life

19. Q and Elise are both underused characters and could become a great dynamic

20. Ango deserves more love, the amount of pressure and stress he deals with is INSANE

21. It's OKAY if everyone joins the fandom for Dazai or skk (I did at first too!!)

22. Higuchi is annoying as hell. I do not get her hype, I like her but not as much as most people (just personal opinion, do not flame me 😭)

23. Everyone in The Guild is forgettable or boring (except Fitzgerald, Poe and Lucy. I like Louisa, but I forget her all the time)

24. Hetero ships are just not that great/interesting in BSD to me 🤷🏻‍♀️ (except maybe AtsuLucy or rare pairs) and female characters are not best utilised, I wish they play more major roles (can't wait for Agatha to arrive!!)

25. Some fan theories/arts get the story better than "canon" stuff at times. Fanon is NOT always the worst (sometimes enjoyable when the canon gets too dark or sad)

26. Toxic ships are okay in fiction as long as they are legal. Humans like toxic things, we consume it like junk food 💅🏻

(These are all personal opinions of mine and do not matter. Feel free to disagree. But, do not hate or be toxic!!!! 😇😇😇😇)

(PS: I compiled all these because of posts I have seen in, Reddit, Pinterest, Twitter and sometimes Tiktok. These aren't really abt you Tumblr folks. I meant to post this on reddit but did not have the courage or mental strength lol)

[gilverrwrites]

STOP WAIT THE TIM DRAKE WITH SIONIS!READER THAT WAS AMAZING

love academic rivals to lovers frfr

anyway but tim is also canonically a high school drop out so sionis!reader finishing school without him (technically dropped out when bruce went missing) 💀 idk why but with roman hating the wayne clan so much, I could see it being kept secret.

like a cute little forbidden fruit/secret relationship. robin & the daughter of the most notorious crime lord in the city?? jeez and you wanna ask why bruce/roman are paranoid /hj

but it's them sneaking around and then tim obviously leaves for his search for batman, dropping out of school, and it leaves sionis!reader all alone.

and then tim comes back!! and bruce is back but bruce doesn't really matter to them(reader), because tim left without a word, without a goodbye, and now he's back and I can imagine all the changes between that happened in that year he was too, the angst of him coming back.

like, would they try to find tim? would they try to go to wayne manor and figure out what the hell happened? I feel like it opens the door to possibilities between them

Hang in there, this is a real rambley ramble.

Ngl, I was picturing it for when he went to Ivy (which he also dropped out of lmao), and I like the idea of them being upfront about it for the comedy/reluctant acceptance angle, but there is still the potential for drama. However, I can see the appeal of them keeping it totally secret too (I'm gonna talk about that later in the post).

For now, heres my vision: You’re Romans favourite kid, his perfect lil angel child, the only one who wants anything to do with him so he dotes on you (to the extent that Roman can dote on anyone) and you go to him one day like; “I get perfect grades, I never miss curfew, I help with the family business, I never ask you for anything, PLEASE accept my boyfriend.” And at first `Roman’s just like… “No.”

Queue the “But Daddy I love him!” tantrum.

Unlike with Jason, Roman has never had any strong feelings toward Tim other than a general distaste cause of the Wayne association, so eventually he tries to come around, but it’s just awkward, and Tim hates it too cause he know your dad is Black Mask, and he can’t do anything without risking being exposed as Red Robin or upsetting you by causing a scene/fight. Is it to much to ask for the two most important men in your life to get along for one dinner? Please?

So, every time they meet the vibes are just off. However, they’re both trying really hard to get along cause they love you.

One night Tim unintentionally catches Black Mask red-handed and he can’t not do his job. The whole time they're fighting, Tim has this whole internal monologue going on about whether he should let Roman off with a warning for your sake, but eventually he’s like WWBD?

So, he hands Roman over to the authorities and the next day he sees you and your bawling! Inconsolable! Your dad is going to prison, your life is ruined. You’re also a bit of drama queen but validly tbh, what will this do for your social standings? Your college applications? Your career aspirations? Fuck Red Robin, you hate that guy!

You were raised by Roman Sionis, of course your inherited at least a little of his melodromatic genes.

Even though you're distressed Tim can’t keep from being like ‘You're mad at the wrong person here! Red Robin is the good guy! You're dad is the criminal, he wouldn't have been arrested if he wasn't a bad person! Who does bad things! He needs to face justice!”

It becomes a massive-ass argument until you’re like “Why can’t you be normal about this? I love my dad and this is going to have a huge effect on my life, why can’t you just be upset for me?”

Tim doesn’t have an answer cause the answer is "I'm Red Robin" but fuck that guy, right? The whole issue goes unresolved.

Or maybe he does snap and tell you the truth but that just makes things worse! "You're my boyfriend and you arrested my father! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!?"

When you visit him at Blackgate, your father is quietly elated by the break up, he doesn’t say as much. He plays the concerned father, offers you comfort. He reminds you that when he killed lost his parents, it started a new age of loyalty amonst the Sionis clan. As long as you're good to your family (him), it will be good to you. Oh, and btw, he needs you to handle a few things while he's gone. Don't worry, your family pisses money, he'll be out of here in no time but this stuff is important and time sensitive, and he needs you to keep it on the down low.

The next time you see Tim, he’s Red Robin and you’re the one he catches in the act.

Also, Tim telling that Bat-Fam “So yeah, I’m seeing someone new, it’s Y/N Sionis.” And everyone looks at Steph for a second, then back to Tim and is like “Dude! Get a new type!”

Also also, you visit the Wayne family for the first time, and after growing up drilled to hate these people you’re lowkey so nervous. You’re expecting them to hate you, because you learned nothing from presuming the same thing about Tim. The youngest one is definitely scary, and the butler must be convinced you’re gonna steal something because he will not allow you to be left alone (he’s remembering teenage Roman hanging out with teenage Bruce and being the worst), but otherwise everyone is actually kinda chill. Maybe a bit overly polite but not unpleasant.

But I can totally see the appeal of them keeping it totally secret too. Especially if Tim tells you about being Red Robin. How it might force you to come to terms with your morality by enabling your father/not holding him accountable. Major existential crisis material.

Of if he doesn’t tell you, the angst of your boyfriend just up and leaving without a word, not responding to your calls, texts, emails.

When he does come back you’ve ‘moved on’. Or you thought you had until you saw him again. But after he left you high and dry you’re fuming, and won’t allow him to just walk skate back into your life.

Tim pining after you while you’re excelling in your college/job pursuit. You keep catching glimpses of Red Robin while you’re out on dates or visiting your dad. Tim tells himself he’s just vetting your new boyfriends or ensuring your dad isn’t up to no good. But really its because he’s missed you and doesn’t know how to make up for cutting you out of his life.

He also notices how you never bring your dates home. How you still bury yourself in his old hoodie at night. How you haven’t finished binge watching that show the two of you were working on together. Those little nuggets of hope are what keeps him hanging on.

[alittlebitofloveliness]

Grew in my heart

Heres part 2! Part 1 is linked here.

*******************

“Is he ever gonna wake up?”

When Pony wakes it’s to a not hushed enough whisper. 

“Course he is dumbass,” that whisper is a lot quieter, “but he’s little and he’s hurt, he’s real tired.”

“He was fine earlier.”

“He was overwhelmed,” the voice corrects, “he was bound to crash sooner or later.”

Ponyboy blinks his eyes open. Soda, Darry, and Johnny are all in a line in chairs watching him, but they quickly pretend to be busy. Doing what, he isn’t sure. He already caught them looking.

“There’s those darling eyes,” Mrs.Curtis’ voice is soft as she smiles down at him, “how did you sleep, honey?”

“Good.” He mumbles through a yawn, somehow still tired, more cozy than he can ever remember being. Somehow though, he still finds himself shy again, and he hides his face in her shoulder until she laughs, peppering his head with kisses and squeezing him gently, coaxing him out of the fabric. He lets himself enjoy it. It won’t last, he knows, but he can let himself pretend, have some good memories to hold close to his chest when he ends up alone tonight in a stranger's house, on a lumpy sofa in a yet another spooky, cold basement. 

“Curtis family?” Suddenly, the door to the office across from Ms. Summers opens and a lady with curly hair Ponyboy has seen a few times in the past when he’s been in the waiting room sticks her head out. She smiles the way Ms.Summers does, in a way that never really reaches her eyes, “Sorry to keep you waiting. I’ve got the paperwork all ready here, I just need the mother and father’s signatures, and then you just need to get it signed by a judge to make everything official.”

“We’ll be right back,” Mrs.Curtis promises them all, standing up and placing Ponyboy down on her chair but not before kissing his cheek almost absentmindedly, the way he’d seen moms at the park near Mr.Fuller’s house do with their babies sometimes, “be good boys for me.”

“Darry, keep an eye on your brothers, will you?” Mr Curtis adds, and Darry nods easily from where he’s lounging in his seat, reading a magazine.

“Does Johnny need to come in too?” Mrs.Curtis wonders as she follows the social worker into the office.

“He can if he wants to, but it’s not necessary for this part.”

“Well Johnnycake?” That was Mr.Curtis, looking at Johnny like he was the whole dang world, and Pony feels the same hatred from earlier bubbling up inside him, which definitely wasn’t fair, especially after Johnny and Mrs.Curtis and all of them had been so very nice to him all day. “Whaddya say? You wanna come with us or wait here with your brothers? We won’t be long.”

Johnny kind of shrinks with everyone's eyes on him. Pony knows the feeling.

“I’ll stay out here.”

“Ok kiddo,” Mr Curtis ruffles Johnny’s hair and follows his wife into the office. 

Even though he has no reason to be worried, the sight of the closed office door with its faded paint and frosted windows makes Ponyboy’s heart sink. Logically he knows its stupid, that something good is happening behind it, that it’s making it so Johnny can get adopted, but that doesn’t change the fact that it’s the same door that closed behind his mother when the state made her sign away custody of him, and that it’s the same office every foster parent who ever returned him ran to as soon as they stepped inside the child services centre.

“Hey,” Johnny nudges him gently, keeping his voice low so Soda and Darry- who appear to be arguing, though Ponyboy can’t tell what about- can’t hear, “you ok?”

Johnny’s got eyes that are inky black and a scar on his head that says maybe he’s got a past life a whole lot like Pony’s current one.

“I-I don’t know.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Pony breathes. He glances at the shut door again. 

“That’s okay.” Johnny promises, simple and sure and kind. “You don’t have to know.”

Pony can tell then that Johnny really does understand, maybe more than anyone has ever understood before.

They lapse into silence. Soda appears to be trying to convince Darry to read out the advice column of the magazine, while Darry is doing his best to ignore him and read one of the sports articles. 

“Johnny,” Pony murmurs while Soda is dramatically wailing about the merits of Dear Abby and the plights of many he needs to weigh in on, “can-can I ask you somethin’? You don’t gotta answer if you don’t wanna.”

“Ok.”

“Did they take your mom away too?” 

Johnny doesn’t say anything but his eyes flash dangerously and Pony finds himself trying to explain.

“It’s only- they took my mom. First they took her away in a different police car, and then they took her into Ms.Summers’ office and then she was gone and I wasn’t allowed to see her anymore.”

Johnny raises a hand to his mouth, chews anxiously on his thumbnail.

“Yeah,” He admits softly after a minute, “yeah they took her. My dad too.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” 

Ponyboy kicks his legs, trying his best not to glance at Johnny. He often had trouble meeting people’s eyes, but that went double anytime he was uncomfortable.

“What about your dad?” Johnny asks after a minute, looking anywhere but at Ponyboy.

Pony blinks. “What about him?”

“Did they take him too?”

“No,” Ponyboy shakes his head, “he’s in jail. I don’t even know what he looks like.”

“I’m sorry.”

“S’okay.” Ponyboy shrugs. It really is too. He didn’t spend much time thinking about his dad, mostly because he usually forgot he ever had one. 

“Pony?”

“Yeah?”

“You ever miss your mom?”

“Yeah,” Pony admits quietly. It feels blasphemous, even as he says it, but it is true, “sometimes. But I still don’t ever wanna go back to living with her ever again.”

Mom was cold and mean with her vicious hands and quick temper, for all she could be nice sometimes. She’d pressed his hand to the hot stove once and threw stuff at him everyday, even if she did read him bedtime stories a few times a week. He’d had worse foster parents since they took him away, but not by much, and those people weren’t his mom. It made sense they didn’t want him. It never made sense why she didn’t.

“Me neither,” Johnny agrees.

“It’s different though,” Pony points out, “you got the Curtis’ now. No wonder you don’t wanna go back.”

“It ain’t different,” Johnny glares, and suddenly he looks like every kid in every group home Pony’s ever met, mean and defeated, “it don’t change the fact she didn’t love me even when I wanted her to.”

“Hey you two,” Darry’s suddenly in front of them, hands on his hips and a frown on his face, “how come you’re arguin’?”

They both hesitate.

“I was bein’ mean,” Pony admits, shamefaced, looking straight at Johnny, “You’re right it ain’t different. I’m sorry Johnny.”

Johnny’s eyes stay hard for a second until they melt back to something soft.

“It’s okay.”

He understands. Pony sighs, relieved.

“Ok,” Darry looks confused, “ well. Glad y’all are good.” 

He sits down again.

Pony can’t help it. He giggles.

“What’re you laughin’ at, huh kid?” Darry sounds mad but he’s smiling as he says it, so Pony thinks maybe he’s only pretending to be.

“Your face.”

“My face?”

“Yeah,” Pony says, “you look funny.” He demonstrates, pulling an exaggerated version of Darry’s puzzled frown, and Johnny laughs.

“Funny huh?”  Darry exchanges a grin with Soda, Johnny perking up beside him, eyes lighting in understanding, “we’ll show you funny.”

The next thing Pony knows he’s being tickled to death, all three older boys teaming up against him until he’s squealing and red faced from laughter, begging for mercy.

“What on earth is going on out here?”

Pony freezes. Darry, Soda, and Johnny all do too.

Ms.Summers has emerged from her office, hands propped on her hips, eyes blazing. She looks mad. Proper mad. The kind of mad adults get before they slap him or send him to bed without food.

Without really meaning to, Pony scoots a little behind Darry.

“Sorry ma'am,” Darry steps a bit more in front of him, putting himself in front of Soda and Johnny too, and gives Ms.Summers a winning smile, “we were just playin’ around. We didn’t mean to get so loud. We’ll be more quiet from now on.”

“See to it that you do. Where are your parents?”

“Signing some paperwork with your colleague, ma’am.”

“Hm,” Ms. Summers huffs, “well, behave yourselves until they get back. Ponyboy, if you can’t be good you’ll have to sit in the corner again without your new friends. Do you understand?”

Ponyboy forces himself to meet her gaze. She never liked it when he was impolite, and that meant he had to look at her when he was speaking.

“Yes ma’am,” he manages, just barely above a mumble. Ms.Summers hates mumbling.

“Good.” She gives them one last severe look and closes her office door with a snap.

As soon as she’s gone Soda starts snickering.

“Did you see her face?” He pulls an exaggerated frown, eyebrows scrunched down and cheeks puffed out a bit, and props his hands on hips the way Ms.Summers had a second a minute ago.

 “Stop bein’ loud!” He mocks in a high falsetto, a poor approximation of Ms.Summer’s actual voice, “no havin’ fun on my watch!”

Pony laughs. He’s learning that Darry wasn’t wrong earlier when he said Soda was just like that. 

“Ok, ok, settle down,” Darry chides, but even he cracks a grin, “c’mon and sit again, and I’ll read out that stupid advice column.”

“It’s not stupid!” Soda protests, but he obeys, pulling Johnny down beside him. It seems almost reflexive, Soda dragging Johnny around absentmindedly and the shorter boy following him without question. 

“You too kid,” Darry nudges Pony gently, “come sit.”

Pony sits and tries to listen to Darry’s soothing baritone, but finds he can’t quite focus on the story. Instead, he worries. 

Mrs. and Mr. Curtis are still in the social worker’s office but he can’t imagine they will be for much longer, and when they come back out the papers will be signed and Johnny will officially be theirs, and they’ll leave.

Ponyboy really doesn’t want them to leave. Not Mrs.Curtis, who’d held him in her arms and let him sleep on her lap, or Mr.Curtis, who never looked scary even when he was stern, and whose eyes were always laughing, even when they shouldn't be. He doesn’t want Soda and his effervescent energy to leave, returning the waiting room to the same, stuffy, suffocating place it always was before today. He doesn’t want Johnny to leave, even though he’s happy for him, because Johnny wasn’t mean but he also understood things, and that was something Pony had never found in any other person, ever. Most of all, he doesn’t want Darry to leave, because Darry just saved him from Ms.Summers like some sort of superhero, and because he’d never been mean to him. Every other teenager Pony came into contact with hurt him or ignored him, but Darry Curtis hadn’t, not once.

He knew this would happen. As soon as he put down his book and went over to play cards he knew he’d get attached. He can feel hot tears prick at his eyes but he blinks them away rapidly. He’s not some stupid little baby. He is not going to cry just because one family was nice to him for one day and now he doesn’t ever want to see them go. That’s stupid.

Maybe he should go back to the corner. Tell Darry he isn’t feeling well and hide behind Great Expectations until they’re gone. It might hurt less if he could do the leaving first.

He’s still psyching himself up to move away from Darry’s soothing voice when the social worker’s door flies open. Instead of the Curtis’ leaving though, the curly haired social worker hurries out, casting a curious glance in their direction as she knocks on Ms.Summers’ door.

“Keisha, could you give me a hand with something, please?”

“Of course.” Ms.Summers emerges from her office looking equally as puzzled, and follows her coworker into the other office.

Johnny and Pony exchange a look. He can see the alarm in the older boy’s black eyes and wishes he could reassure him, but anything he said would sound false to his own ears. Any kid who’s ever been in the foster system knows that things go badly when the social workers start acting like that.

“What’s goin’ on?” Soda sounds scared, looking up at Darry with wide, frightened eyes, “they ain’t…I mean, they promised Johnny could stay for good, right Dar? They said they got the papers and everythin’.”

“Everything’s fine,” to his credit, Darry sounds so sure Ponyboy could almost believe him, “Johnny’s ours for sure, that ain’t in question.”

He ruffles Johnny’s hair, and the dark haired boy manages a weak grin, but Ponyboy can still see the panic he’s trying to hide in the way his hands are trembling, tucked under his thighs. He doesn’t believe him, not really. Pony doesn’t either. Pretty lies are and always will be just that: lies.

“Y’know…” Darry looks at the closed office door, something like realization dawning, “I think things’re gonna be more than ok actually.”

“What do you mean?” Soda wonders. 

Darry shakes his head, suddenly fighting a grin. It’s such a stark 180 from the worry he was trying to hide a second ago it’s a little startling.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Darry!”

“Seriously, little buddy, don’t worry about it.”

“You oughta tell me,” that was Johnny, voice small, “if you know something I don’t. It’s my life we’re talking about here.”

“You’re gonna be just fine Johnnycake,” Darry promises, “I mean it. We all are.”

They will be. Pony is glad for them, as much as he can be- which currently isn’t much, with the envy and the loneliness battling for dominance in his gut. 

“All of us.” Darry looks right at him, blue green eyes bright, “that means you too Ponyboy.”

He’s trying to be nice. Ponyboy knows he’s trying to be nice, but it still stings knowing their fine is so much better than his own. Their kind of fine meant love and safety and warmth. His meant survival and a half decent dinner. Sure, they’d all be fine. But not the same.

He’s saved from having to say anything by the office door opening.

“-tell him.” Mrs.Curtis is saying, Mr Curtis beside her with a thick manilla envelope and a smile shining brighter than the sun.

“There’s my boy,” Pony thinks Mr Curtis looks like a boy himself, his handsome face young, open and  joyous as he crosses the room in three steps and sweeps Johnny into a bear hug, picking him up and swinging him around, “how does it feel to officially be Johnny Curtis, huh?”

Soda perks up.

“It’s official?”

“Signed and sealed,” Mr. Curtis presses a kiss to Johnny’s hair and sets him down, but keeps an arm around his shoulders, “just gotta file these with the judge downtown.”

Soda cheers, and Darry lets out a whoop, both of them swarming Johnny and Mr.Curtis, half tackling them until they’re all wrapped up in one group hug, and it’s the best thing Ponyboy’s ever seen and all he wants to do is cry.

A touch on his head has him flinching away before he realizes it’s just Mrs.Curtis gently carding her fingers through his hair, watching her husband and three sons fondly before looking down at him.

“They’re real special, aren’t they?”

“Yes ma’am.” Pony agrees. 

She hums, and Pony can’t help but lean into her gentle touch. They’ll be leaving soon. She’ll be leaving soon. It’s okay, he thinks, to enjoy her kindness as long as possible. He’d already tried not to, and it hadn’t worked. Trying to ignore Mrs.Curtis’ love was like trying to ignore his growling stomach on the nights he went to bed hungry. No matter how hard he tried to forget it, when he next got a taste of food he couldn’t help himself from eating as much as he could stomach, simply because he didn’t know how long it would be until his next proper meal.

“Y’know,” Mrs. Curtis says, “I think you’re pretty special too.”

Her smile changes, still soft but now there’s a secret hiding in her eyes, and a specific kind of love Pony doesn’t understand pulling at the dimple in her cheek. 

“I talked to Ms.Summers,” she says, and Pony’s heart twists. Ms.Summers has a way of making him into a bother to people who don’t even know him. He doesn’t want Mrs.Curtis to think that, “and she said you don’t have anyone to go home to tonight. So I thought maybe you might wanna come home with me and the boys.”

His heart stops.

“W-what?”

“Well,” she sounds almost casual, but her shining eyes and mischievous grin give away how false it is, like Darry’s had when they were playing cards earlier, an actor on life’s stage, “there’s an extra bed in Darry’s room, now that Johnny and Soda have bunk beds, and some chocolate cake in the fridge I really think you’d like. Besides, Soda and Johnny are always talkin’ about how they wished they had a little brother to teach things to, and I know they had a ball playin’ cards with you earlier. So what do you say? You want to come stay with us for a while?”

He wants to. More than anything he wants to. It sounds like a dream come true, like a storybook come to life. He lets himself imagine it, sharing a room with Darry of all people, eating chocolate cake with Mrs.Curtis, and getting to play with Soda and Johnny who actually liked him, maybe even not having to worry about being slapped all the time.

“Why?” he has to know. It doesn’t make sense why she would offer this. She has enough little boys, with Soda, Johnny and Darry. Why would she want him too? “Why would you wanna take me? You don’t need me.”

She wasn’t like Mr.Fuller, who’d needed an extra hand to help out on the farm, or Mrs. Delvine who had three babies and no husband. Mrs.Curtis has a husband who looks at her like she hung the stars and three boys already to help her out with chores. She doesn’t need him. It doesn’t make sense.

“Oh honey,” her eyes get sad, and Pony hates himself for making them that way even if he doesn’t know what exactly it is that he did, “I think I do need you. I think all of us do. But more than that I think you need me.”

“I ain’t your baby,” Pony reminds her, because it feels like maybe she’s forgotten that, and it doesn’t matter if he feels like he does need her, because she ain’t his mom and she doesn’t deserve to be stuck with him. “You got no reason to be stuck with me.”

“Hmm,” her mouth presses into a thin line, but she doesn’t look angry. Stern maybe, but that doesn’t feel quite right either, “you cried in my arms and slept on my knee, so I think you are my baby now, at least a little bit. I got more babies than just the three I brought with me today, and I needed all of them just as much as they needed me. So.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” she cups his cheek, “there’s Soda’s friend Steve, and Darry’s friend Keith, and Johnny’s friend Dally. And they’ve all cried in my arms and slept on my knee at least once, and they always come stay at my house whenever they need. And they didn’t grow in my belly but they grew in my heart and they’re still my babies anyway. So I think you could be too. If you want.”

If he wants. Ponyboy is used to wanting things, and even more used to not getting any of them, but he can be one of Mrs.Curtis’ babies if he wants. 

“Really?”

“Really.” She promises.

“Ok,” he breathes, “ok, yes, I’ll go with you.”

“We’re keeping Ponyboy too?” Soda whoops, half jumping on Mrs.Curtis in his excitement,  “this is the best day ever!”

“I knew it,” Darry claims, shaking his head at his parents but grinning all the same, “I knew as soon as that other social worker got called in there that you two just couldn’t leave him here if you tried.”

He knuckles Pony’s hair and grins down at him, inviting him to share the joke. Pony thinks he might actually be dreaming, because he still can’t quite bring himself to believe this is happening, that he’s gonna stay with the Curtis’.

“I’m real glad you’re coming with us,” Johnny murmurs in his ear, as Ms.Summers hands Mr.Curtis  Pony’s file and his meagre backpack of belongings, before bidding him a perfunctory farewell.  Ponyboy can’t help but agree. He’s real glad he’s going with them too.

It won’t last forever. Hell, it might not even last a week. They could get sick of him or he could get moved anytime, but as Mrs.Curtis takes his hand, and he follows the Curtis family out of the family services office and towards his latest new life, Ponyboy Hewitt lets himself believe for the first time that maybe, somehow, this fairytale might last. 

[kominigiru]

im gonna start dumping my one-shots here from now on just bc. also posted on ao3!

satoru's guide to wedding day blunders

contains: female reader, gojo being a menace, reader and toge are siblings, shoko and nanami are so done with satoru's shenanigans

Gojo Satoru is late to his own wedding.

You stand at the altar, fingers clenched around your bouquet, doing everything you can to keep from grinding your teeth. Shoko, standing to your right as your maid of honor, is shooting you sympathetic looks, while Nanami on the left looks like he's one deep sigh away from physically dragging Satoru here himself.

Your family sits in the front row, their faces showing various degrees of irritation, disappointment, and—worst of all—pity. They're whispering among themselves, making no effort to hide the glances they cast toward you, or the fact that they're annoyed on your behalf.

You close your eyes for a moment, trying to block out the noise. When you open them again, your mother is already halfway up the aisle, moving toward you with a determined look in her eyes.

"Sweetheart," she says, barely acknowledging Shoko and Nanami. "It's been over an hour. I think it's time to accept that maybe this wedding… isn't happening."

You stiffen, fingers going numb around your bouquet. Cancel?

Nanami sighs heavily, crossing his arms. "She has a point. Gojo's behavior today is completely unacceptable. It reflects poorly on him, and worse, on you. We can reschedule."

Shoko snorts in agreement. "Yeah, even I'm tired of waiting, and I'm not the one at the altar. Typical Satoru."

Your mouth opens, but no words come out. You don't speak often—as your Cursed Speech makes casual conversation risky—but the urge to say something now presses hard against your chest. Before you can figure out how to respond, you feel a tug on your gown.

You glance down to see your younger brother, Toge, standing at your side, his tiny arms wrapping around your waist in a comforting hug.

"Aniki's late," Toge mutters, his voice barely audible.

The way he says it tugs at your heartstrings. Even your usually patient brother is starting to lose hope.

Suddenly, with perfect, almost theatrical timing, the heavy church doors burst open, slamming against the walls with a deafening thud. You don't even need to turn around to know who it is.

"Sorry I'm late!" Satoru's voice rings out, loud and unapologetic, echoing through the silent church.

You finally turn, and there he is, Gojo Satoru, standing in the doorway like he's just walked in from some casual errand and not his own wedding. His hair is tousled, his sunglasses perched on top of his head, and he's grinning like this is all some kind of joke.

Satoru saunters down the aisle, waving casually at the guests. "Miss me?"

Your family collectively groans, and you can feel Nanami's simmering rage without even looking at him. Shoko rolls her eyes dramatically, muttering something about "classic Gojo" under her breath. You, however, stay rooted in place, fingers tightening their grip on your bouquet.

Satoru reaches the altar, looking perfectly at ease, as though he hasn't just kept an entire wedding party waiting for over an hour. He slides up next to you, his grin widening when he sees the expression on your face.

"Hey, sweetheart," he says softly, leaning in just enough for only you to hear. "Sorry about that. Had to deal with a curse situation. You know how it is. Life of a sorcerer and all that."

You stare at him, your mouth a tight line.

You've gotten used to Satoru's antics over the years, but even for him, this is too much. Still, speaking directly, even to scold him, could have unintended consequences thanks to your cursed technique, so instead, you breathe deeply through your nose and give him a pointed glare.

"Ah… right," Satoru says, catching on. "You’re upset. Understandable."

Nanami, who's been silent up until now, finally speaks up, his voice thick with irritation. "You're lucky we haven't already canceled the ceremony."

Shoko nods. "An hour late, Satoru? Even for you, that's ridiculous."

Satoru throws up his hands in mock defense. "Okay, okay, I know! But hey, at least I showed up, right? That's what matters."

You can feel the tension radiating from the entire room, but before you can think of how to express your feelings in a way that doesn’t result in your cursed speech accidentally knocking everyone unconscious, you feel a tug at your dress again.

You glance down, and Toge is looking up at you with wide, concerned eyes. "Tuna mayo," he says softly, which is his way of saying, Are you okay?

You crouch down slightly, giving Toge a reassuring smile and patting his head. It's a small moment, but it helps ground you. You straighten up, turning back to Satoru, who's watching the interaction with a sheepish grin.

"Look," he starts, "I know I messed up. Big time. But hey," he adds, flashing a grin, "You know you love me anyway, right?"

You stare at him for a long moment, taking in his disheveled appearance, his unshakable confidence, and his infuriating grin. Despite everything, despite the frustration, the embarrassment, and the whispers from your family, you can’t help but feel the corners of your mouth twitch upward.

Maybe it’s because this is so typically Satoru—unpredictable, chaotic, and yet, somehow, charming in his own way.

You take a deep breath and raise your hand to his chest, pressing two fingers lightly against him. It's a gesture you often use when you can't speak, one that means I forgive you, but don't do it again.

Satoru's grin softens, and he takes your hand, squeezing it gently. "I promise," he says, and for once, there's no teasing in his tone. "I won't mess up again. Well, not today, at least."

Nanami clears his throat. "We'll see about that."

Shoko shrugs. "Honestly, I'm just impressed you got here at all."

Toge, ever the voice of simplicity, tugs on Satoru's sleeve and mutters, "Okaka."

Satoru gasps dramatically. "Betrayed by a child! I thought we were family, Toge!"

Toge just crosses his arms, unimpressed, as you all share a quiet laugh at Satoru's expense.

Satoru turns back to you, his grin back in full force. "So, what do you say we make this official, huh?"

You glance at the altar, the officiant who's been waiting patiently, and then back at Satoru. Slowly, you nod.

Satoru's face lights up, and with a flourish, he turns to the officiant. "Alright! Let's get married before anything else decides to go wrong!"

As the ceremony finally begins, you can't help but feel a mix of exasperation and fondness swelling in your chest. Life with Satoru will never be predictable, but as you look at him now, standing beside you, you know one thing for certain: it will always be interesting.

And in his own chaotic way, you know that Satoru loves you—enough to show up late to your wedding but still make you smile in the end.

You squeeze his hand once more and and he chuckles, leaning down to kiss your forehead and whisper, "I love you, too."

—

Later that night, after the wedding reception winds down and everyone heads home, you and Satoru return to your shared house. You're still wearing your wedding dress, and he's got his suit jacket slung over his shoulder, looking as carefree as ever. He's been trying to sweet-talk you the whole way back, as if he hadn’t shown up an hour late to your own wedding.

"Come on, sweetheart, it wasn't that bad." He grins, nudging you with his elbow. "Everyone had a good laugh, right?"

You give him a sidelong glance, your silence speaking volumes.

"Okay, okay, maybe I pushed it a little. But hey, I made it in the end, didn't I? That's what counts!" He flashes his signature smile, the one that usually gets him out of trouble.

You pause at the front door, turning to look at him. For a moment, he thinks he's won you over. You're smiling, after all. But then, without a word, you toss him a single pillow.

Satoru catches it with a confused look. "Uh…what's this?"

You gesture to the pillow and point to the roof.

His smile falters. "Wait, wait, wait, hold on. You're not serious, right?" His laugh is nervous now. "You forgave me at the altar! We're good! We're married now!"

You shrug and head inside, but before he can follow, you turn around, blocking the doorway with your body. His eyes widen in panic.

"Come on! I can't sleep on the roof on our wedding night! People will talk! Nanami will find out and he will never let me live it down!"

Your only response is a raised eyebrow, and you slowly, deliberately, start to close the door.

Satoru jams his foot in the door with a dramatic gasp. "But I thought you loved me!"

You don't need cursed speech for this one. You give him a sweet, innocent smile—the kind of smile that would normally melt him on the spot. But tonight, it just spells doom for him. He knows that smile. It's the smile that means, "I do love you, but you're not getting away with this."

He groans. "Seriously? After all the curses I've fought, this is how I go down?" He leans his head dramatically against the doorframe, clutching his pillow like a lifeline. "Sleeping on the roof like a stray cat? Come on, babe, be reasonable!"

You sigh, your patience wearing thin. He's still whining.

With a subtle tap into your cursed technique, you say the words that you've been holding back all night. "Sleep on the roof tonight."

The power of your cursed speech echoes through the air, and Satoru visibly flinches. His body moves on its own, turning toward the roof like a puppet on strings.

"W-wait! No! I take it back! I take it back! You don't have to use that—"

But it's too late. His legs betray him, carrying him toward the roof with a dramatic flair, like he's being pulled by some invisible force. You watch as he scrambles helplessly, pillow tucked under one arm as he clambers up to his new "bed" for the night.

From the roof, you hear him groan, his voice tinged with betrayal. "But I'm your husband now! Doesn't that mean anything?!"

You close the door, letting out a small chuckle. Behind it, you hear him muttering to himself in frustration.

"Of all the things to use your cursed speech for..." he grumbles. "Could've just told me you were mad! But noooo, had to make me sleep outside on the night of my own wedding!"

You hear some shuffling from the roof, and then: "At least give me a blanket! It's cold up here!"

You open a window just wide enough to toss him a thin, scratchy blanket, watching it float up to where he's perched.

"Thanks," he mutters sarcastically. "This’ll totally keep me warm."

There's silence for a few moments before his voice drifts down again.

"I'm sorryyyyy!" he yells, his voice carrying through the night air. "I'll never be late again, I swear! I'll be early to everything! Our anniversaries, your birthday, breakfast—you name it! I'll never mess up again!"

You shake your head, smirking to yourself, knowing full well that's a promise he'll break within the month. But for tonight, the roof will teach him a lesson.

From the roof, you hear a long, pitiful sigh. "I thought married life would be more… cozy. Not like… this."

Finally, after what seems like an eternity of grumbling, he goes quiet, probably giving in to the reality of his situation. The stars twinkle overhead, and for a moment, all is peaceful.

Until—

"I bet Nanami's gonna find out and give me that look tomorrow." His voice suddenly perks up again, this time with a hint of dread. "You know the one. The 'I told you so' look. Ugh, I hate that look…"

You roll your eyes, closing the window fully this time, knowing that his whining will eventually tire him out. But still, you can't help but smile.

You know he'll be back to his usual antics by tomorrow, but for now, he can enjoy the roof.

As you settle into bed, you can faintly hear Satoru one last time from outside.

"You'll miss me eventually! No one can resist my charm!"

You smile into your pillow. Not tonight, Satoru. Not tonight.

[lazywitchling]

“So much death. What can men do against such reckless hate?”

(Yes I did just order a pot pie from the chicken fast food place. I’m watching 12 hours of movies, I ain’t cooking a whole pot pie!)

Okay. Look.

When I was younger, my cousin bitched about elves at Helm’s Deep not being in the book, but I didn’t think it mattered because it’s cool and I liked elves and it made me the fun kind of sad when Haldir died.

But now I get why. (I mean, ultimately it’s a fictional story so it doesn’t really matter in the grand scheme of life, blah blah, you get the drill. I will complain about this, but I don’t care if you like it, ya dig?)

So here’s the thing. Theoden’s whole storyline throughout this movie and into the next is that he does not believe anyone will help him. Gondor could have come to save his people, but they didn’t. Rohan was left on its own, and people died, and that sucks. So Theoden has succumbed to the depressive thoughts of “We’re all gonna die anyway, why bother fighting?” (Hey that’s a major— actually THE major point of this whole story!!) He has hidden his people away to hide because he knows fighting is futile because they will be alone.

It’s a big deal when he agrees to go out and fight alongside Aragorn as the Uruks are about to overwhelm the keep. I said last year, Tolkien’s brand of hope is the difference between “I only have one hit point left :(“ and “I still have one hit point left >:)” Theoden STILL has no reason to believe help is coming, but he chooses to act like it is anyway, because the alternative is just curling up and dying right there. And he is rewarded, because Gandalf shows up with reinforcements!! Eomer, who has every reason to hate Theoden, brought all the riders to help! Everyone is saved! Hooray!!

But the damn elves show up in the middle of Theoden’s “Aw nobody will help us :(“ thing. And then elf help arrives. And he goes “Yay, help is here!!” And then nobody really mentions the elves again except for Haldir’s brief dying scene, and Theoden is right back in his “Aw nobody will help us :(“ thing. It just slaughters the pacing of the story, and Theoden’s arc along with it.

Furthermore, the elves say they were sent by Elrond, who has chosen to have the elves fight alongside mortals once again to honor old alliances! Except that Elrond isn’t really participating in this portion of his own character arc, and in fact doesn’t reach that “idk maybe mortals aren’t so bad after all” point until RotK. So it’s somehow fully out of character for him at this point even though he’s not even there.

ADDITIONALLY, it fucks up ARWEN’S story, because the whole thing with her is that she has to choose between sailing to the undying lands and being with her people forever but losing Aragorn, or staying with Aragorn who will eventually die and then she has no one left and no way to get to the undying lands and will never see her family again and will just live until the heat death of the universe. See, I’m pretty sure (don’t quote me on this) that there’s like… a respawn thing that happens with Tolkiens elves. They’re not only ageless, they’re unkillable. They CANT die. That’s why Arwen’s choice is so difficult. She couldn’t even live out life with him and then jump off a bridge after he dies so she doesn’t have to see the heat death of the universe. She’s literally stuck.

But friggin Haldir takes a sword to the head and has a sad death moment, and then I’m left wondering why everyone is pestering Arwen so much. If elves can die, then she has no problem.

I’m pretty sure it messes up other storylines too, but my pot pie is getting cold.

[1dcommunityficrecs]

Rec List: Proposals & Weddings!

I did it! I'm married! It was a lot! I'm still exhausted! But also it was great! I love my friends and family!

I also love these boys! And I love their love! They should also get married! Yay!

For your perusing pleasure, here are seven fics featuring the marvels of matrimony. This set of fics ranges from a thousand words to thirty thousand, general to explicit, and has two lovely rare pairs. Please enjoy, comment, kudos, reblog -- you know the drill.

From the Start by allwaswell16 (32000, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post

Louis has no idea that one act of kindness will cause his life to spiral out of control. But that's what happens when his new friend fake proposes to him and a video of it goes viral.

Reccer says: An excellent fake relationship with a perfect happy ending!

I Want To Be With You Everywhere by haztobegood (30400, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post

Fae Proposals were a rare and ancient ritual. The presentation of the four Tokens to one’s mate would initiate a lifelong, inter-realm bond between their souls. But the Tokens could only be gathered if the lover could overcome the elements of all four Faery Realm Trials. The Trials were dangerous, deadly even. But for Harry, Louis would risk it all.

With This Wing, I Thee Wed by LadyAJ_13 (5000, Teen, Niall Horan/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post

“Nando’s?” Niall crosses his arms and pouts, a little line appearing between his eyebrows. “I want Nandos. I like Nandos.” “And I like my dignity,” Louis mutters.

Reccer says: Excellent humor as Nouis gets up to silly antics in Nandos!

Truth Is I'm Gonna Dare by LiveLaughLoveLarry (3900, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

Harry and Louis are groomsmen for Niall and Shawn. During the bachelor party, they discover they have more in common than mutual friends -- namely, mutual attraction and a piss kink.

Reccer says: Hot hot hot. The piss kink is beautiful, and the added thrill of being in a public space, the risk that any moment they could be seen... *chef's kiss*

Forever Yours, Faithfully by berzerkshires (10300, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

Famous Harry/non-famous Louis. This fic is part of a series, but it works just fine as a standalone. How much context do you need to enjoy a beautiful wedding?

Reccer says: Sweet, funny, hot, cute, heartwarming, all the things. Also as someone who just planned a wedding, showing up to discover I'm getting married today and someone else did all the work kind of sounds ideal. Realistically I'd have a panic attack, but conceptually -- ideal.

To have and to hold by sweariwouldnt (15200, Not Rated, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

Getting married should be the happiest time of Harry's life. And he is happy, to be marrying Louis. But he also keeps getting lost in all of the challenges they've faced. Louis helps remind him that they got through them together, and they'll get through this too.

Reccer says: This fic alternates between being incredibly sweet and heartwarming to the point of making me cry, and then being incredibly raw and heartwrenching to the point of making me cry. Both of which I love.

Love Weddings by JoMouse (1000, General, Zayn Malik/Liam Payne)

Zayn is DJing a wedding, and an attentive server makes sure he gets plenty to eat and drink while he works. The way to a man's heart is through his stomach, after all.

Reccer says: Cute, sweet, simple. Zayn starts out a bit crabby, but no one can be grumpy in the face of Liam's sunshine. Feels like a beautiful beginning.

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.170 One more thing

I probably should have waited to have the next conversation, but I figured since we were getting everything in the open, we may as well discuss finding a new house. Besides, she said she missed talking, right? Autumn in San Sequoia is beautiful. It's refreshingly cool in the mornings, and evenings, and warm during the day. I suggested we take Desi and hang out in our side yard for a bit. A little while ago, I packed up the yoga mats I had out there and set up a nice outdoor chill spot. It's clear I'm not gonna achieve my yoga dreams, if you can even call them that. We weren't using the space, so I turned it into something we will definitely use. Since Desiree will be walking soon, I'll have to get her some toys and things out here. But for now, she can take a nap under the sun in the fresh air while Sophia and I talk business.

It was a little cool, so Sophia lit a fire to keep the baby warm. I let us enjoy the weather and silence for a few moments before bringing up Alessia's conversation.

"So, ummm, after the memorial, Less told me she wants to move."

"Oh! That's great. So she's gonna live in your dad's house then?"

"No."

"Oh. So you're gonna help her find a place?"

"Yes, but not exactly what you're thinking."

She gave me that "Watcher, here we go," face, and I knew I had to sweeten this deal even before I presented it.

"Dub and Maia live in a duplex. They live on one side and rent out the other. I think a situation like that will be ideal for us. Less will be right next door if something happens. We'll share a backyard so the kids can grow up and play together. It's perfect for us. And if Less ever wants to move out, we can rent it to another family and have another stream of income. It's a win win for all of us."

"Wait," she said. "You want us to move? We just got here!"

"True, but things change. It's no big deal. We'll still be in San Sequoia. Just another neighborhood."

"But I love it here," she said. "We spent so much time and money making it our own. Luca, you proposed to me here! I gave birth here! This is my home!"

Sometimes I forget Sophia lived in one place for a long time. Plus, she's a lot more sentimental than I am. This house is the sixth home I've lived in. Moving is no big thing to me, even though this particular home is special to me too. I dreamed about living here; I longed for it. But life hasn't turned out how we thought it would, so my priorities are different now. While I could accomplish my goals perfectly from here, I'd be more at ease somewhere else.

"I understand. We've had lots of great memories here. And I know you're concerned about me being too involved in Less' life, but I think the best way to minimize my time away from home is to have her as close as possible. I promised Mama I'd look after her, Sophia."

She let out a looooong sigh and sat in silence for a bit. I wanted to know what went on in her head, but I knew I needed to let her work it out within herself first, so I waited until she was ready to continue.

"What about this house? What will happen to it?"

I honestly wasn't too keen on selling it. I worked really hard to get it, and I didn't want anyone else to enjoy the fruit of my labor.

"We'll keep it," I said, hoping we'll be able to afford to buy a new house without selling this one. "Less won't need us so close forever. This duplex situation is just temporary, so we can come back here when it's over. Maybe we'll rent it out while we're gone."

Sophia winced at that idea.

"Or it can just sit here until we come back," I said.

She nodded and sighed.

"I don't want to move," she said. "I don't think it's necessary. But everything you said makes sense. I do want Desi to be close to her cousins. The thought of her having easy access to them sounds nice. And I know how much you love your sister."

"Thank you. I'm sorry we have to leave here, but I really do think this will be good for all of us."

[leviiackrman]

I am fighting for my life to be mentally stable and it’s not working

[nobodysdaydreams]

Giving a complicated tragic childhood backstory to your favorite character is all fun and games, until you realize you need to account for how old all the other adult characters would have been at the time and realize that scenes that would work perfectly if one character was twenty three and the other was fourteen stop working when you need other characters who are played by adult actors clearly younger than they are to be in college at the same time so your story beats line up thematically.

[rosicheeks]

-

[kellystar321]

.

[mieczyhale]

"Never apologize for putting stupid in its place."

- t.

[gaytoddhoward]

i kind of need to be like skinned or put into a meat grinder or something . lol .