#he doesn’t WANT to be in pain. some part of him resents the idea that this seems to be his lot in life

[fellhellion]

Hm. Something I’ve been thinking about (since I never shut up about Miguel apparently) is the idea that maybe there’s not supposed to be, to his understanding of what happened, a singular canon event that he breaks when dipping dimensions, it’s more the idea that he “breaks” canon by no longer being present to carry out his own canon events, by wanting something outside of what was apparently predestined to him, and the universe punished him for it.

I broke [canon] once myself, he says, but he doesn’t name the event even as the examples he pulls up are labelled.

Perhaps the “event”, as the characters perceive it, could just be something as simple as by virtue of replacing alt!Miguel he negated the intended effect of the man’s death upon the world around him.

But I just wonder. Because the way Miguel speaks of this to Miles portrays his own wanting for something different as being what he thinks invoked that destruction.

“We all want to live the life we wish we had, believe me I’ve tried. And the harder I tried, the more damage I did. You can’t have it all, kid.”

I wanted something more, but Spider-Man’s fate is set. Any and all events, regardless of their nature. And defying that fate, trying to live a life beyond what it asked of me killed people.

If you alter your course from canon in any way, you hurt people.

[ezdotjpg]

Hi!!! Sorry if you've been asked this before but is it possible for you to summarize the Bonus Links' personalities? Just asking because I'd like to get a general idea, apologies if this is too much of a pain to answer 😭🫶🏻

hey! luckily I already wrote up character intros a while back that I never posted to tumblr lol, so I'll go ahead and post them now! under the cut since this is mega long lol

Loft

Pronouns: he/him

Game: Skyward Sword

Age: 22

Height: 5’3”

Communication: Mainly speaks, signs occasionally

Personality: World’s Nicest Man Pushed To His Limit. It’s his nature to be light-hearted and easy-going, but ever since the events of Skyward Sword he’s been unable to let the implications of Demise’s curse and Zelda’s connection to Hylia go. He’s usually mild, but he’s got a lot of suppressed anger in him that comes out at inopportune times. He tends towards being optimistic, but has lately been caught in a depressive spiral. As a result of all these conflicting emotions, he hasn’t felt like himself in a while. Before everything, he could have been described as a little bit lazy, but these days a better word would be lethargic. He’s got a mischievous and thrill-seeking streak that often surprises people. He knows he’s powerful, but he’s lost some confidence in the years since his quest. He’s wracked with guilt about the way everything ended.

Slate

Pronouns: tends to use he/him, but really any

Game: Breath of the Wild (ignoring TotK for now)

Age: 21

Height: 5’0”

Communication: Mainly signs, speaks occasionally

Personality: The Reviews Are In: Friendly Guy, Vaguely Off-Putting. He knows he’s not pre-calamity Link, but he’s not exactly sure what he is instead. He’s accepted this about himself, and it grinds his gears that other people refuse to. He’s not sure what to do with all these memories inside him that aren’t his, and that he feels nothing for. He’s become more expressive, but when he’s upset his face goes entirely blank. He has a tendency to be distracted, blunt, intense, impulsive, somewhat abrasive. But he’s not unkind, and can even be outright friendly. He’d offer his help to anyone who asks, and he makes it a point to know everyone in Hyrule. He’s happiest out in nature, and doesn’t mind the solitude. He only ever lies by omission, and otherwise says exactly what he means. There’s something a little otherworldly about him.

Mask

Pronouns: he/him

Game: Ocarina of Time, Majora’s Mask

Age: 15

Height: 5’2½”

Communication: Mainly speaks, signs occasionally

Personality: Local Teen Needs Hug So Bad, Will Bite If You Try. He’s prickly, hot-tempered, moody. He’ll pick verbal battles he probably shouldn’t. Everything is a touchy subject. But he’s developed this behavior as a coping mechanism. He’s kind by nature, and it takes effort to lash out. The person he is with Malon- gentle, more soft-spoken, with a good sense of humor and a love for harmless mischief- is a lot closer to the person he’s comfortable being. He’s a scared kid. He feels out of place, both mature and immature, of this world and not. Sometimes, he gets scrambled between Termina, the Hyrule he’s in now, the Hyrule he left behind, and the Hyrule of the war. He has a lot of resentment for both the gods and the royal family, and all he wants is to be left alone.

Wolf

Pronouns: he/him

Game: Twilight Princess

Age: 23

Height: 5’5”

Communication: Mainly speaks, signs occasionally

Personality: Thank God I’m A Country Boy. He’s a gentle soul, probably the gentlest out of all of them. He likes to be useful, and he has made being the problem solver of Ordon Village part of his identity. He’s a bit of a mother hen and likes to take care of people. Midna was good at bringing out a little bit of attitude and snark in him. He’s got a bad case of Resting Bitch Face, but he’s not an angry person. However, he’s had a hard time adjusting to life back in Ordon. He’s usually even-tempered, but lately he’s been irritable and easier to anger. He feels isolated by his experiences, and has been avoiding most of the villagers, including his loved ones, even though it makes him lonely. Mostly he just doesn’t want to take it out on them, but it’s also about his pride. He enjoys the company of animals far more these days. He wants a quiet life, and has been avoiding Zelda's attempts to make "Hero" a political role for him to fill.

War

Pronouns: he/him

Game: Hyrule Warriors

Age: 25

Height: 5’7”

Communication: Mainly speaks, signs occasionally, had Proxi speak for him at one point during the war

Personality: Link “This Is My Jaeger, I Make The Tactical Decisions” Faron. He comes across as a very charming young man, witty, helpful, pleasant in conversation, well-adjusted. In reality, he is constantly doing complicated political 4D chess in his mind at all times, even when it’s not necessary. Many years of being subject to the whims of the Royal Court and pressure to be a perfect symbol have poisoned him: he’s become calculating, manipulative, superficially polite, two-faced. He has to be the one holding all the cards, considering all the variables, fixing all of the problems, because he can’t trust anyone else. If you were to strip him of all pretense, he'd actually be a dry, resigned person, perpetually annoyed with everyone around him. He values status and reputation, and he wants more power than he has. His appearance is important to him because he knows his pretty face is an asset. He holds deep respect for the gods and the mantle of the hero. He has a strong sense of duty, but one that often leads him to justify terrible actions. The ends justify the means.

Mirror

Pronouns: he/they

Game: A Link Between Worlds, Triforce Heroes

Age: 22

Height: 5’1”

Communication: Mainly speaks, signs occasionally

Personality: Local Link Doing Pretty Well Actually, All Things Considered. He’s just living his life, having a mostly pleasant time. He used to be quiet and reserved when he was younger, but has come out of his shell in a big way. He’s a bit vain, and fond of doing things with a dramatic flair. They like to have an audience, they like to make people laugh, they like to have your attention. Rather than being poisoned by court politics, he thrives in them. He doesn’t pretend to be charming, he just is. They can be on the arrogant side. He’s interested in fashion and art more than fighting these days, but still keeps his skills up to date. He pretends the scar on his face doesn’t bother him, but it does. He’s particularly obsessed with the legend of the hero before him.

Mage

Pronouns: he/him

Game: A Link to the Past, Link’s Awakening, Oracle of Ages, Oracle of Seasons

Age: 32

Height: 5’3”

Communication: Mainly speaks, signs occasionally

Personality: Weird Uncle You Just Stopped Hearing From One Day. He’s a difficult guy to get a read on. He comes off as deeply serious, imposing, no-nonsense. He is actually full of nonsense. The fact that no one can tell what is and isn’t part of the bit is part of the bit. He mostly ignores his own problems by dedicating his life to solving other people’s problems. He wanders from place to place, helping people and becoming a bit of a larger than life folk legend in his own right in the process. He’s leaned into learning magic more than the sword, and has built up quite the arsenal of spells. He doesn’t speak often, and is content to let other Links lead despite being the oldest and the most experienced. He’s difficult to rile and even more difficult to get a straight answer out of.

Spirit

Pronouns: he/him

Game: Spirit Tracks

Age: 16

Height: 4’11”

Communication: Mainly signs, speaks occasionally. He has a stutter when he speaks.

Personality: Wants To Be Anywhere But Here, Preferably On A Train. He’s fully given up swordfighting, and basically just wants to go back to being a Royal Engineer like nothing happened. He has no interest in gaining any kind of attention, authority, or power from the mantle of the hero, and would actually prefer that everyone stop looking at him. He’s quiet, sweet-natured and generally non-confrontational, but he’s not afraid to stand up for himself when pushed. It’s just that it’s easier to let Zelda stand up for him instead. He’s pretty mature and in-tune with his emotions for a 16 year old. Seeing spirits everywhere, he has a lot of private thoughts about grief and death that he doesn’t share with anyone. The gears in his brain are constantly turning, and once he’s stuck on an idea, it’s all he can focus on. He often doesn’t give himself enough credit for how capable he is. Please let him tell you about trains.

Mini

Pronouns: he/him

Game: Minish Cap

Age: 14

Height: 4’3”

Communication: Only signs, mute.

Personality: He’s Just A Little Guy, Only 2 Pixels Tall. Mini doesn’t do anything he doesn’t want to do. He’s not very expressive in the face, and it can be hard to tell what he’s thinking or feeling. Mostly, he’s a little rascal. He likes to root around in the garbage and build strange little machines from what he finds. He spends a lot of time hanging out with the Minish, moreso than humans. It’s a little bit of an escapism thing. He hasn’t really processed what it meant to become the hero so young, and is actively trying to avoid doing so. He’s very independent, and simply doesn’t compute attempts to coddle him.

Wake

Pronouns: he/him

Game: Wind Waker, Phantom hourglass

Age: 20

Height: 5’5”

Communication: Mainly speaks, signs occasionally

Personality: Everyone’s Favorite Cousin At The Family Function. He’s a fun person to be around. Friendly, energetic, laid back, good-natured, outgoing. He is always up for a good shenanigan. But he can get serious when he needs to, and often plays the important role of mediator in group dynamics. He’s the glue that holds the team together! He seems to take everything in stride, and presents himself as unbothered by the things that have happened to him. Whether that’s actually true, or he’s just compartmentalized everything too well remains to be seen. He has a strange way of being very open, and yet a closed book at the same time. He’s sentimental, and family is important to him

[egcdeath]

the l word

pairing: joel miller x reader

summary: the five times you realized that you loved joel, and the first time one of you says it. 

word count: 9.1k

warnings: canon divergent, no apocalypse, 5+1 fic, hurt/comfort, a certain someone gets punched, brief mention of postpartum depression & abandonment, really brief mention of physical abuse in 3, fluff, domestic fluff, angst with a happy ending, found family

author’s note: happy very early valentine’s day! this is part three of the soccer parents au, you can read spectator sport (p1) and clean sheet (p2) here!

this fic would not be possible if it were not for the help of @freakinfairykind, who sent me the idea for scene 3 and listened to my thought vomit whenever i hit a roadblock! you can thank them for the brilliance that is what occurs in that scene :)! enjoy!

part four / series masterlist

Zero

After Nathan, you were sure that you would never fall in love again. Love was supposed to be beautiful and soft—a random bouquet of flowers, having a whole conversation with just your eyes, sweet messages sent to you when you expected it least and needed it most, and foot massages after a long day. For you, love had been nothing of the sort—settling for mediocrity, spitting out venomous words during arguments, and biting back tears on forgotten anniversaries. 

Love wasn’t kind or patient, or rainbows and flowers. Love was a storm cloud that followed you around when you were around him, pouring sadness and anger on you and striking you with lightning bolts of resentment. 

Maybe some people just simply weren’t meant for love. Maybe you were one of them.

One

After years of trying to hold together a failing marriage and hide the myriad of painful feelings you were going through for the sake of your daughter, bottling up your feelings had become your preferred coping mechanism to everyday stressors. 

For the most part, it worked for you. Sure, some days were harder than others, and the smallest confrontation or blip in the day would send you spiraling; but more often than not, you were able to compartmentalize whatever was bothering you and save it for a rainy day.

That was part of what worked so well about the relationship you had with Joel during the soccer season—you had the opportunity to unscrew the lid of the shaken bottle of your feelings just a little bit, taking some of the edge off by yelling about completely inconsequential things. But now, you don't have that outlet. And today was one of those days that you desperately needed it. 

Nathan had come by to pick up Chloe just a bit ago, and it was very obvious that she hadn’t exactly wanted to spend her weekend with him. Some of her friends were going to the mall and having a sleepover, and because Nathan wasn’t particularly fond of their parents, he’d very openly told her no. She begged and pleaded to stay with you (mainly so she could go hang out with her friends), which of course broke your heart a little bit, but also led to a pretty dramatic outburst from your daughter to Nathan when he’d picked her up.

“You’re raising a spoiled little brat,” he hissed at you, pointing an accusatory finger once Chloe was in the car. 

“At least I’m raising her. You only show up when it’s convenient for you,” you shot back. If Nathan wanted to stoop low, you could fall to his level. “Put your finger down. She’s watching us.”

“A little argument won’t hurt her,” he scoffed. “See? You’re proving my point: you spoil her too much.”

“Because years of watching her parents bicker wasn’t traumatic enough? Get in the fucking car, Nathan.”

He huffed, looking back at the car, then over at you. “Fine. But before I go, I’d appreciate it if you stopped talking poorly about me in front of her. Clearly she’s listening to you and acting out because of it.”

“Have you considered that you’re just a shit father and maybe that’s why she doesn’t like you?” you were already making your way back inside, feeling the avalanche of emotions beginning to stir inside of you, and a little frightened of what might come out next. 

“You’re still such a bitch. Every day I praise every deity that’s out there that I left your sorry ass.”

You were viciously fighting the urge to get the last word in, knowing that whatever would come out next wouldn’t be good, and you certainly didn’t want Chloe seeing you like that. You left him with a sarcastic thumbs up, then slammed your front door, taking deep breaths to attempt to calm yourself down.

You crumbled down in front of the door, still maintaining slow and deep breaths. It was no big deal. Nathan just says stuff like that to stir the pot. You just needed to find something to take your mind off of everything. Your mind went to the scarf you’d been working on crocheting, something you could mindlessly do for a little while while you cooled off. 

The scarf was going well. You were calmly crocheting the evening away when you checked your phone to find a few apologetic messages from your coworkers. Feeling confused, you went on to check your email, only to find that the promotion you’d spent the last few months of your life slaving away for had been given to someone else—someone who had worked half as hard as you, and even took credit for a few of your projects. 

Your hands shook as you set down your phone and attempted to pick back up the crochet hook. You were fine, right? Sometimes these things just happen. Sometimes you sacrifice hours of your free time, hours of time you’ll never get back with your child, or significant other, hours you’ll never get back of sleep, hours of-

You cut your mind off, tossing aside the scarf and taking a deep breath. You were gonna be okay. This just meant you could take your foot off the gas going forward, since your work, effort, and time clearly was not being valued. Maybe you would just sit at your desk and play games, then slap your name on projects and presentations like Naomi. Maybe you’d just-

Your phone began to vibrate on your bed and your immediate reaction was to silence it, but upon checking the contact name, you became slightly more inclined to answer. 

“Hey! I almost thought you weren’t gonna pick up,” the man on the other end chuckled. 

“Is everything okay?” you asked, although you weren’t sure you’d be able to handle anything else today. With how your day was going, Joel was probably calling you to break up.

“Better than okay. We finished up early, and Sarah’s already at her friend’s. You in the mood for some company?”

No, not particularly. In fact, if Joel came over, you’d probably end up going off on him over something you don’t really mean, successfully putting an end to the best thing you’ve had in a while. 

“Uh,” your voice cracked, and a rogue tear slipped down your face. You didn’t even know that you were on the brink of tears. “I’m sorry,” you uttered, digging the heels of your hands into your eyes. 

“Sorry for what? You don’t have to feel bad for not wanting me over,” he said genuinely, not picking up on your emotional state over the phone. 

“No, I do want you over,” you whimpered. “I just… I don’t want to lose you, too.”

“What? I promise you I’m not going anywhere. Well, I’m going home now, but I can also come to your place if you want me to.”

“Please,” you grit out. 

“You okay?” he asked, finally catching on to the fact that something was very off with you. 

“I don’t know,” you confessed. 

“Do you want me to stay on the phone with you?”

“No.”

“You sure you want me to come over?”

“Yeah,” you sniffled, desperately trying to fend off your tears.

“Okay, sweetheart. I’ll see you soon, alright?”

“Bye,” you hung up, burrowing yourself under layers of blankets and curling up onto your side. Maybe this tidal wave of emotions would pass by the time Joel got to your place. You closed your eyes as you took deep, shaky breaths, wiping away stray tears every now and then as they fell. You could pull yourself together. 

You kept telling yourself this as you dragged yourself out of bed to answer the door, but the moment you saw Joel with a box of chocolates and a bouquet of flowers, you completely lost it. He immediately tossed the items down and pulled you into a tight embrace, not exactly knowing what was wrong, but instinctually wanting to comfort you regardless. 

You didn’t even really know what it was either. Sure, you were pissed that you’d lost the promotion, and even more upset that Nathan had called your daughter a name while insulting your parenting skills, but it was far more than that. It was every little thing from the past two months that had upset you in some capacity that you had decided to push as far down as possible. 

You sobbed until your throat was raw and your eyes grew sore from crying so much. The whole time Joel wordlessly held you, rubbing soothing circles into your back and swaying you back and forth just the slightest bit. You almost felt like your tears would never stop, and the more you willed yourself to pull it together, the harder it was to do so. 

Finally, you pulled away, head hanging with humiliation by the emotions abruptly pouring out of you. You truly felt like a live wire. You should’ve just told Joel not to come over. 

“Want me to run you a bath?” he asked softly, tilting your chin up so he could look at you, and rubbing a thumb over your cheek. “Or is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”

“A bath is good,” you said quietly, averting your gaze. You almost felt like a toddler in the midst of a tantrum. The shame of being a grown woman who couldn’t even control her emotions was overwhelming, but Joel didn’t seem to mind much at all. He simply led you up to your bathroom and quietly filled the tub for you, checking it every now and then to make sure it wasn’t too hot. Once the tub was filled up, he helped you undress, then held your hand as you stepped into the tub. 

“Would you like me to stay?” Joel asked as you settled into the tub. 

“Not really,” you admitted. 

“Okay. Just yell for me if you need anything. I’ll be downstairs.”

Somehow, the bath was everything you needed. It was just warm enough to relax your rather tense muscles, and just quiet enough to allow you to actually process your thoughts. You sat and soaked in the bath for a while, just inhaling the scent of lavender, and trying your best to let go of the feelings that you’d been holding onto for so long. 

Eventually, you felt ready to talk about things, and called out Joel’s name, who after a moment, showed up in your bathroom and sat down on a towel next to the tub. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked, reaching for your pruny hand. 

“Better,” you answered as you laced your fingers with his.  

“Well, I’m here when you feel ready to talk about it. And if you don’t feel ready to talk about it, that’s okay too.” 

“Okay,” you said quietly. “I’m sorry,” you apologized, the apology being more of a force of habit. 

“You don’t need to be sorry,” Joel  assured, “we all feel our feelings sometimes,” he pushed away a bit of hair that had fallen into your face. 

“I’m sorry you had to see me like this, I guess,” you continued. It had been a while since you’d shown any negative emotions in front of anyone, let alone a significant other. In fact, the last time you’d been sad in front of a significant other, you’d been laughed at and mocked. You’d been conditioned to see your own vulnerability as weakness, as a character flaw you needed to apologize for.

“Like what? Naked?” he teased, trying to at least make you smile when you’d clearly been feeling so down. “You know I don’t mind that at all. Seriously, though. There’s nothing wrong with being upset, and there’s nothing wrong with being upset in front of the people you care about.”

A tear slipped down your cheek. It had been so long since anyone had made you feel like you weren’t a burden for having a rough day. Joel gently brushed away your tears with his thumb, and kissed your forehead. 

“Thank you,” you muttered, feeling all sorts of feelings, particularly one feeling you couldn’t quite describe that had been lying dormant for years of your life. 

You eventually got out of the tub once the water had become too cold and you had become

somewhat of a human prune, and you found yourself curled up in bed with Joel, wearing a flannel that he’d left behind the last time he was over. 

“Feeling any better?” he asked once again, gently rubbing your back as a trashy reality TV show played quietly in the background. 

“Yeah,” you mumbled as you looked up at the ceiling, “it’s been a rough few months.” 

“Months?” Joel asked, scooting closer to you. “What’s been happening?”

“Too much to get into,” you sighed. “I guess it just all came out now.”

Joel turned down the volume of the TV, and turned his body so that he could face you properly. “If you want to talk, we have the time. I may or may not have drank a coffee on my way over here, so I’ll be completely alert for the next few hours.”

He gently grabbed your hand and squeezed it, a little reminder that he was here for you. 

“Today’s just been… bad. When Nathan picked Chloe up, she was upset so he called her a spoiled brat and said that it was my fault that she was one. Obviously I do a lot for her, and I know that I’m a good mom, but sometimes the way he talks about her scares me a little. I don’t want her to have self-esteem issues because her dad likes to name-call. I mean, she’s probably gonna have enough issues from our shitty relationship and messy divorce. That really upset me, but that definitely wasn’t the last straw or anything.”

Joel silently sat and listened, holding your hand and listening attentively.

“I lost the promotion, Joel. You know, the one I’ve been working absurd hours for? But it’s not just that, it’s just… there are months of emotions I haven’t had a chance to process. I guess it just all came out now after that.”

“I’m so sorry,” he said softly. “Nathan is an asshole. He shouldn’t be saying that kind of thing about his child just to make you feel bad. And your boss is stupid for not giving you that position when you’ve clearly earned it. Everything you’ve felt today is valid, but so is everything else that you’ve been holding in for the past… however long. It’s okay to feel your feelings in the moment instead of waiting for them to boil over.”

“I guess, it’s just… I don’t know. I’ve had to be strong for so long. I don’t know if I know how to not wait for my emotions to boil over.”

“Well, you don’t have to be so strong anymore. You’re not alone,” he assured you. “If you ever need me to watch Chloe because you need to go out to the middle of nowhere and scream, or just need someone to talk your feelings out with, I am more than happy to do so. Okay?”

“Okay,” you agreed, setting your head on Joel’s chest. 

You were getting that weird, dormant feeling in you once again. There was an odd warmth in your chest and butterflies in your stomach, that felt strange and familiar, but most of all, exciting. You had no idea what was going on, or what that feeling was, but you did know that you didn’t want it to stop anytime soon.

And honestly, it didn’t seem like it would. 

Two

Walking into Joel’s home to the sound of soft guitar chords made you feel a bit like you had woken up in a dream, or died and gone to heaven. It wasn’t often that you’d heard him play guitar. Sing? Sure! He loved to sing along to a song he liked on the radio, or do karaoke with you and the kids. But playing guitar was something that he seemed to like to keep to himself.

Joel had picked Chloe up from school, as you had an important work event that you’d anticipated going quite late, and as you’d predicted, it was nearly midnight by the time you got to Joel’s place. It was rare for you to see those two alone, without yours or Sarah’s presence, but you’d assumed the latter had gone to bed due to how late it was and the fact that they had school in the morning.

So hearing Joel play for your daughter felt… weird. But a good weird. Like he trusted her enough to be doing something that he often kept under wraps, even for you.

“I love this song!” you heard your daughter exclaim from the living room. You rounded a corner, not quite ready to appear yet, but curious enough to eavesdrop on the scene.

Joel chuckled at her reaction, “should we sing it together?”

“Maybe, I’m not very good, though.”

“I doubt that,” Joel said, continuing to play the introduction to the song on a loop. 

“I… fine, I’ll sing.”

The two of them began to sing along to the song, and you could’ve sworn that your heart did an actual flip as you listened. There was something very sweet about the whole scene, of Joel playing a song your daughter loved, of him assuring her that she was good enough, and singing something together. 

You should’ve felt bad for listening in on the scene, for invading on a moment that was clearly meant to be private, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to feel that way when your heart was so filled with… something that you couldn’t quite place.

The song came to a soft conclusion, and you figured there was no better time to finally step out from behind the wall than then. 

“You guys sounded so good!” you stated as you entered the room.

“Oh hi,” Joel greeted a little awkwardly, looking down at his guitar as if he’d been caught red handed. 

“Mom!” Chloe exclaimed, coming over to you and hugging you. “I missed you.”

“We were just killing time while we waited for you to get home. How was work?”

“Eh,” you shrugged, sitting down across from Joel as Chloe curled up next to you. “It was work.”

“Mom, did you know that Joel sings and plays guitar? He’s really good!”

“Really? I didn’t know that,” you acted surprised for your child, but looked mischievously at your partner. It wasn’t often that you had the chance to get Joel to play you something, and you refused to let the opportunity slip away from you. “Can you play me something?”

“He can!” Chloe accepted the offer before Joel could begin to protest. God, was this child your mini-you. “Go ahead, Joel.”

He looked to you as if he needed some sort of excuse to not do it, or encouragement to play (more likely than not, he was looking for an out), but you simply shrugged, far too enthused at the idea of him playing guitar for you. 

Just as the man sighed and began to put his fingers to the string, Sarah came down the stairs and plopped herself right next to you. 

“You guys are loud,” she stated, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. 

“Sorry for waking you up,” you apologized. “You were just about to miss your dad’s concert!”

“Oh good,” Sarah giggled, getting all comfortable next to you as she pulled a blanket over her lap. 

“I feel like this is a premeditated attack,” Joel held onto his guitar. 

“It’s definitely not. We just want you to share your gift with the world!”

“Alright, fine. Only because I like you guys so much.”

The three of you cheered from the couch as Joel began to play again, the soft acoustic notes of a love song you’d heard a few times before. As Joel played and sang, he looked straight at you, and you couldn’t help but feel like the lyrics were coming straight from his heart to you. 

That warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest that you’d become more and more familiar with over the course of your relationship began to reappear as you sat there, the moment a snapshot of the perfect domestic bliss that had become your home life. As you sat with your two favorite children in the world, and your favorite man, you realized that you’d never felt more content in your life. 

Three

When you agreed to come to a bar with Joel, you hadn’t expected it to be a quaint little hole-in-the-wall with great live music. 

The atmosphere was lively, the drinks were dangerously sweet, and best of all, it was cute watching Joel in his element. Part of you wondered if he ever saw himself up on the stage, playing for a little audience. Although, he was so bashful and shy playing in front of you and the girls that you wondered if he would like it at all. 

You finished off your first drink rather quickly, but you were feeling up for another, and prepared to head back to the bar. “Do you want another drink?” you asked Joel over the loud music. 

“I’m alright. Thank you, though,” he kissed your cheek, then looked back up at the stage, directing all of his focus there once more. 

You made your way back to the bar, where you ordered another fruity drink for yourself and patiently waited for it to be made, humming along to the cover being sung on stage. 

Being able to find out more about what Joel liked to spend his time doing was (unsurprisingly) quite nice. While he was vulnerable with his emotions, he was often a little more closed off when it came to sharing his hobbies and interests. You wondered how many of these live shows and open mics he was familiar with, how many local artists he was friends with. Would he ever feel comfortable enough around you to share those things with you? Well, you certainly hoped so. 

You looked around with a small smile on your face at the thought of learning more about your partner’s interests. Had he ever been the one up on stage? Maybe before Sarah was born and he was launched straight into the time consuming world of fatherhood. Although, he surely would’ve shared that with you by now.

You were drawn out of thought when eyes landed on a head of hair that looked a little too familiar for your liking.  

No.

There was no way.

This bar was definitely not his scene. In fact, if you’d suggested this bar, he would’ve laughed in your face and called you a hipster, before dragging you out to some stuffy restaurant where he’d complain about the portion size of both his meal and the bill. 

Your mind was just playing a mean trick on you. You’d had a somewhat stressful week, and sometimes drinking made you the slightest bit paranoid. Besides, it was just someone’s hair. Literally anyone could have that hair color, or hair cut, and although the world was small, it wasn’t that small. 

Just as you began to fall headfirst into your nerves, the bartender handed you your drink, and you walked back to Joel, head still in the clouds. 

You couldn’t shake that off feeling, even as Joel danced around with you and stole a sip of your drink, both actions bringing a smile to your face, but not quite quelling the growing discomfort in your stomach. 

You just needed to go clear your mind and freshen up. At least, that’s what you told yourself before telling Joel to keep your drink safe and power walking to the bathroom.

You stood at the sink, splashing your face with water as cold as the faucets would go. Nathan was not here. You needed to just relax, and enjoy the fun date that Joel had planned. You couldn’t keep letting this man ruin your experiences, even when he wasn’t present.

“You okay, hun?” a voice asked you while your head was bowed over the sink. When you looked up, your eyes nearly popped out of your head, as if you were some ridiculous cartoon character. 

Well. Your brain must’ve really been fucking with you today. Or the Universe just really hated you. 

Claire, Nathan’s new girlfriend, was asking you if you were alright in the bathroom of a bar that your new boyfriend had suggested. 

You were completely unsure of whether she knew who you were or not, although she seemed tipsy enough not to care. 

“Oh, I’m fine,” you smiled awkwardly at her. “But, uh, my mascara’s a little smudged. Any chance you have a makeup wipe?”

“Yeah!” she said, digging into her purse to check for the item. 

You’d never met Claire before, but as far as first impressions went, this one wasn’t too bad. She offered you the wipe, then stood next to you as you dabbed at your under eye. 

“You meet anyone fun tonight?” she asked, beginning to touch up her own makeup. 

“No, I’m actually here with my partner. He really likes the music,” you said casually, dabbing at the same spot so you could at least attempt to maintain your composure in an otherwise dramatically ironic and tense situation. 

“Oh no. Was he the one making you cry?”

“Cry? No! I was sweating. We were dancing,” suddenly, a slightly perverse question crossed your mind. “Does your partner make you cry a lot?”

“How do you even know I have one?” she giggled, sounding less accusatory and more confused. 

“I don’t I just-“

“No, not really,” she shrugged as she reapplied her lip liner. “He mostly just buys me shit and spoils me. What would I have to cry about? He’s a really good guy.”

Oh, you remembered that phase. Well, phases. The time after he’d slapped you during an argument immediately came to mind. Nathan could probably teach a seminar on love bombing, then making you feel guilty for having any negative feelings because of all the money he’d spent on you. 

“That’s good,” you nodded, tossing the used wipe in the trash and making your way to the door. “Thanks for checking in on me and helping me. Have a good night.”

“Hey, do I know you from somewhere?” she asked as your hand hit the door.

“No,” you replied promptly, maybe slamming the door behind you a little too hard. 

This was a lot to process, and a lot to take in. Despite having a fun time with Joel, you really just wanted to go home. Finding your way back out to him, you silently accepted back your drink and stood besides him stiffly. 

“You okay?” he asked, gently grabbing your arm. 

“Fine, just… just.. I have an upset stomach,” you explained. You were never a good liar, the concern in Joel’s eyes told you that you hadn’t suddenly become one. 

“I’m sorry, sweetie,” he said, rubbing your forearm gently. “Let’s go home, okay?”

You certainly didn’t protest as he began to lead you out of the bar, and you let out a sigh of relief at being able to leave before running into anyone else you knew.

Although, life was never that simple, was it?

As you approached the door, a familiar voice called out your name, sending a chill up your spine. Joel’s head whipped around from where it was coming from, and scowled when he saw who the voice belonged to. Ignoring him, the two of you continued your departure, a newfound urgency in both of your steps.

Once you were outside, you felt yourself puff out a sigh of relief. You’d managed to get out of the bar with only a brief conversation with Claire, and no direct interaction with Nathan. Now, if you could only get home, curl up with Joel on the couch, and tell him the absurd story of how you’d bumped into your ex’s new girlfriend in the bathroom. 

But the universe clearly wasn’t letting you off the hook just yet.

“Hey!” Nathan called as he stepped out of the bar, Claire trailing just a few paces behind him. “You’re such a fuckin’ bitch. Can’t even say hi to the father of your child.”

You were almost alarmed by the speed in which Joel marched over to your ex and reprimanded him. Not even wasting a moment, Joel shoved him back—a warning of sorts, with your knowledge that he was certainly holding himself back. 

“Leave her the fuck alone,” he barked. It was like no tone you’d ever heard him use before, not when he was upset with anyone, and not even when he was yelling at a referee for a bad call.  

“And who the fuck are you?” your ex shot back. 

“Does it really matter?” Joel pressed, not backing down despite the slightly shorter man getting in his face. “You’re not gonna go around trying to degrade women.”

“Oh yeah? You gonna stop me, Mr. Nice guy?” Nathan pushed Joel, but your partner barely budged. 

“You fuckin’ cuck,” Nathan muttered. “Why do you even care about this whore?”

Nathan took a second to think about it, glancing between the two of you before a light seemed to go off in his little brain. 

“Oh, I know. You’re that guy from the soccer games. You two together now?" His condescension was almost jarring to hear, and part of you worried about what your clearly inebriated ex might say or do next. “I see you’re still the community cumrag,” he directed at you. 

You hardly had a moment to process what was just said before Joel was swinging, clearly seeing red as he threw a hefty right hook at your ex, leaving a nasty crunching sound as he fell to the ground. 

“Don’t talk about her, or any other fucking woman like that ever again,” he squatted down to his level, and grabbed both of his cheeks. “Leave her the fuck alone, you understand me? Or next time you’re gonna wish it was just your nose.”

Nathan cradled his bloody nose and whimpered and Joel walked back to you, the fury on his face melting into something apologetic as you looked at him with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he began, cautiously approaching you as if he was something to be afraid of. “I shouldn’t have done that. I overstepped-“

“Joel. Don’t apologize. Do you know how much that asshole deserved it? You did everyone a favor tonight, but especially me.” 

You had never had someone defend you so literally before. Sure, your friends had argued with Nathan a few times on your behalf, but punching Nathan in the face had truly raised your expectations for anyone who claimed to be doing anything to help you. You don’t think you’d have felt this alive or cherished in years. 

“Now let’s get you home and ice those knuckles.”

Four

You were usually a big fan of rainy days. The sound of rain pattering against the window or on the roof of your car, and the smell of petrichor on the pavement were sensations you wished you could experience all the time. But today, you weren’t quite so pleased to see the rain. 

You’d taken the day off to spend it with Joel, who had specifically asked for you to take some time off to be with him. You couldn’t blame him, as you’d been slightly neglecting him after things picked up once again at work. You’d had a whole outdoorsy day planned, with a morning hike, a visit to a conservatory, and a picnic at one of your favorite local parks. Unfortunately, none of those activities could be done comfortably in the pouring rain. 

Instead, you opted to come back to your place after you dropped your kids off at school, and have a domestic little day-in.

After putting some homemade cinnamon rolls into the oven, the two of you found yourselves on your couch, comfortably sitting together and reading your own books while the smell of warm cinnamon filled your house. 

Occasionally, you glanced out your window, the scene of rain granting you a sense of serenity. At one point, you noticed Joel’s gaze out the window as well, and you couldn’t help but comment on it. 

“Don’t you just love the rain?” you asked, setting your book down on your coffee table. It was more of an excuse to break the silence than an actual comment, but you said it regardless.

“It’s nice,” he agreed, his tone oddly somber for a comment on the rain. 

“You okay, big guy?” you asked before moving closer to Joel. 

“I’m alright,” he smiled, but it didn’t quite meet his eyes. There wasn’t any real concrete evidence that something was off, but something inside you told you that something definitely was off. 

“You sure?” you asked, squeezing his bicep. 

“Yeah, it’s just,” he paused, looking down at his book as if he was about to go right back to reading instead of telling you the issue. After a moment of hesitation, he spoke once more, “it’s the anniversary of Diane leaving.”

Oh. So that’s why he’d asked to be with you today.

You’d never heard Joel say her name before. Sure, you’d seen her name written under a polaroid or two, but you’d never heard Joel reference her ever. Now that you thought about it, you didn’t really know what their deal was. Amicable exes? Divorcees? Was Joel a widower? You felt awful that you’d gone this far into a relationship and still didn’t know anything about his last significant one. 

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly, not completely sure how to react. You mainly wanted to get a gauge on Joel’s reaction–just how upset was he? Did he want to talk about it? Or just get the importance of the day out in the open?

“It’s just… Today feels like that day in a lot of ways.”

You nodded slowly, still not exactly sure of how to approach the situation. You thought back to all of the times he’d been there to support you when you were having a rough day, and ended up asking aloud, “is there anything I can do to make you feel better?” 

“Maybe just listening, if that’s okay. It helps to talk about it,” he paused. “The rolls smell done. I’ll go get them,” with that, he was off to the kitchen, barely giving you time to react, or even protest his departure.

He clearly wanted to talk, but just wasn’t completely ready to do so at that moment. You could listen. You could be the best damn listener on the planet if that was what Joel needed from you. No matter what he revealed to you today, you were determined to make Joel feel comfortable, and know that whatever he was going through, he wasn’t alone—just as he’d shown you in the past.

By the time he came back to the living room, Joel offered you a plate with an iced cinnamon roll and acted like everything was normal. He sat back down next to you, stole a bite from your plate, then buried his nose right back into his novel.

You respected his right to process his emotions in any way he saw fit. All you could do was be a good partner, and offer whatever he needed from you to feel better, like he’d done for you so many times before. 

While you were fine with spending your day cuddled up on the sofa and reading, you were also aware that there were a good amount of house chores that were calling your name. Upon mentioning these tasks, Joel insisted on helping out, which was how you two landed in the laundry room, laughing at something stupid that had happened to you this week. 

While you loaded light clothes into your washer, Joel suddenly caught you off guard with a question that was a far cry from the banter you’d just been having only moments before. 

“Is it… are you okay with me talking about it?”

By it you could only assume he meant the giant elephant of a woman in the room. 

“Of course,” you turned to him, offering sympathetic eyes. 

“She left just a few months after Sarah was born,” Joel busied himself by pouring out laundry detergent and fabric softeners. “I just woke up one morning to an empty bed and a note in the kitchen saying she was leaving, she wasn’t coming back, and not to look for her.”

You were taken aback by the cruelty of such an abrupt ending, especially with such a young infant. You couldn’t imagine being put in those circumstances so unexpectedly. 

Joel casually poured the respective liquids into their proper places in the machine, then turned it on. “It was a day just like this. The nursery had a nice, big window that we put a rocking chair in front of. Sarah liked looking at the stars when she was younger, it always helped to calm her down. I remember holding her in that chair and bawling my eyes out while she cried too, and with all the rain against the window… it felt like the Earth was crying right along with us.”

You weren’t sure what to say or how to react, but it seemed like Joel was prepared to move right on, quickly changing the subject as he led you out of the laundry room. 

Baking cinnamon rolls had left a lot of dishes in the sink, but luckily for you, you had an extra set of hands to help you out. Joel was on rinsing duty, and you were on loading.

You quickly found your rhythm, as you often did with partnered tasks. You worked quietly while loading the dishes, letting the music from your speaker fill up the silence, but it was obvious Joel was lost in thought.

Eventually, he quietly began to speak again, “I kept trying to make sense of her leaving. I knew that postpartum depression hit her really hard, and that she was barely sleeping at night because of how often Sarah was crying. Sarah was a really sensitive, fussy baby. She’d told me how she’d felt a few times, and I always kinda thought things would just pass. Every new parent hits that roadbump where they just can’t see themselves doing this thing forever, right? Then, she just left. I thought maybe she just needed a few days away, and that she’d be back. But days went by, then weeks, then it had been a month, and it was still just Sarah and I.”

“Did she ever come back around?” you asked, setting down the last dish into the sink, then closing the machine.

“Never heard from her again.”

You closed the distance between you and the man, wrapping him in as tight of a hug that you could manage. 

“I’m so sorry,” you muttered into his shirt as he melted into your embrace. “I can’t even imagine how painful and stressful that was.”

As a mother, you couldn’t imagine abandoning your child; the tiny human being you spent nine months carrying, and would spend a lifetime loving. But as a human, you understood the stress of being the parent of a newborn. Waking up every few hours because your baby is crying and you’ve tried everything to get her to stop but she just… won’t. Paired with postpartum depression, which you were no stranger to, you could understand the circumstances that led Diane to feeling like she had no other option but to leave. But that didn’t, in any way, make it the right thing to do. 

As you held Joel, a sound you hadn’t ever heard from him escaped his lips, wracking his body. A guttural cry that had clearly been trapped deep inside of him for the longest time had suddenly escaped as he recalled an event that had clearly changed his life. 

You stood in the kitchen holding him for what felt like forever, when he finally pulled away, wiping his face a little bit. 

“Thank you,” was all that he managed to get out.

You laid next to him in bed after a rather emotionally loaded session of lovemaking, trying to catch your breath as the two of you recovered from the underlying emotional and physical aftermath of your fornication. As Joel spooned you, a question lingered on your mind. 

“Do you still love her?” you asked, keeping your eyes forward on the wall. You wanted to say you were sure he had moved on, but these types of situations were rather nuanced. There were just some bonds that regardless of time or circumstances, people continued to hold on to. 

“No,” he answered clearly. “I don’t hate her, either. I guess I just understand her. But that doesn’t make what she put me or Sarah through any better.” 

You slipped your hand down to where his were currently laying on your stomach, and you set one on top of his. 

“I’m not jealous, I’m just curious. Do you ever miss her?” 

“I used to,” he sighed, the close breath blowing some hairs on your neck. “I don’t anymore.”

Eventually, your laundry was dry, meaning you two needed to get out of bed and get to folding. 

“She has a new family, now,” he said out of the blue, as he folded up a pair of your pajama pants. “Husband, kids, dog, the full nine yards. Tommy found her Facebook a few years ago, but I still haven’t looked. I don’t really know why.”

You didn’t really know why either, but you knew exactly the feeling he was experiencing. Seeing your ex who you’d invested so much into and had a child with move on with someone was a particularly gut wrenching feeling. You could only imagine how much worse it was in Joel’s scenario, where Diane had abandoned him and their child, yet had a child and built another family elsewhere. 

“Does Sarah know?” you asked, putting a blouse onto a hanger. 

“Bits and pieces. She kinda just accepted that her mom’s not in the picture, but doesn’t know why she left or anything about her mom’s new family,” Joel finished up with his basket, then began to help you with yours. “Maybe when she’s older. Old enough to understand that it isn’t her fault and that these things just… happen sometimes.”

“I guess,” you frowned as you grabbed your last article of clothing and hung it up. “It shouldn’t have happened, though. Neither of you deserved to be abandoned.”

“It was gonna happen one way or another,” Joel shrugged, putting your baskets away. “Our relationship had been on the rocks even before Diane became pregnant. If it wasn’t then, it would be later. I’m just glad it happened early enough that Sarah doesn’t remember. You in the mood for a coffee?”

His words gave you a bit of whiplash, but you accepted the offer of a warm drink regardless. 

You sat at your table, stirring your drink as Joel sat down across from you. 

“Good, right?” he asked. “I think I’ve officially nailed the way you like your coffee.”

“It’s pretty good,” you admitted, taking a sip from a mug that Chloe had decorated in her school’s art class. 

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Good. It is one,” you hummed. 

It was clear that his mood was slightly improving the more that he talked about his experience. You wondered just how much of this information he’d shared with anyone else before you, as he told the story as if he were confessing something for the first time ever. 

“I’ve never told anyone this much about it,” he confessed. “I’m glad that of all the people I could’ve told, it ended up being you.”

“Joel, I,” the words popped into your head, but died on your tongue. “I care about you so much. I know this can’t be easy to talk about, so thank you for sharing this with me,” you squeezed his hands across the table. 

“Thank you for being so supportive. I also care about you a lot. So much that it scares me. Especially knowing that you could lose everything in a literal night,” he admitted. 

“Oh Joel,” you said softly. “I’m also scared. I’m always so scared that I’ll lose you and Sarah and this little blended family we’ve made. But if that’s the price I pay for… caring about you so much, I’m okay with being afraid.”

Joel looked at you like he had something to say, but instead sat there quietly for a moment, processing your words. “Do you want to watch an episode of The Bachelorette?” 

“Is that even a question? C’mon,” you stood up.

The two of you cuddled up on the couch once again, this time with a much lighter feeling in the room, partially due to what Joel had confessed to you, and partially due to the absolutely ridiculous content playing on your television.

“I’m sad that I had to go through what I had to go through, but I’m glad that it led me to you,” Joel said out of the blue, resting his forehead against yours.

You were glad that he found you too.

Five

It wasn’t every day that the forces of the universe seemed to be on your side, but for some reason, today was one of those days. 

When you’d been called into your boss’ office that morning, a pit formed in your stomach. You’d figured that the day you were going to be laid off was coming, especially following the whole promotion fiasco. As you walked into her office, you fully intended to be walking out without a job. 

Except, that wasn’t what happened. You had been promoted, and promoted into a position even higher than the one you’d previously been gunning after. 

Once you found out, you had to fight the urge to skip out of your boss’s office, singing and dancing with joy. Instead, you fought that urge by closing the door to your office, and calling Joel. 

“Hey honey, what’s up?” he answered casually. 

“Joel, they promoted me! And it’s an even better position than what I was trying to get before!” you squealed. 

Joel cheered from over the phone, making you somehow smile even harder. “Congratulations! I’m so proud of you. I can’t think of anyone who deserves this more than you.”

“Oh my god, stop it,” you giggled, putting your hands up to your warm cheeks. 

“No, I’m serious,” Joel countered. “I know a lot of hard workers, and none of them work as hard as you. You’ve sacrificed so much to get here and it’s finally paid off.”

“Thank you, Joel,” you had more to say, but you decided to keep it to yourself. Mainly, how did you get so lucky to end up with a man like him? 

“Are you busy tonight?” he asked. 

“I’m just dropping Chloe off at my mom’s, then I should be free for the evening. Why?”

“Why don’t you come over to my place so we can celebrate? You picked the right time to get a promotion. Sarah’s going to her uncle’s for the weekend.”

“Sounds good to me,” you hummed. “I’ll text you when I’m heading over.”

“Alright. Again, congratulations! So proud.”

You hung up and attempted to get back to work, but you were far too excited to focus for too long. You somehow made it to the end of the work day and to Joel’s house without spontaneously combusting from joy.

When you walked in, you were immediately met with the smells of one of your favorite candles, mixed with the mouthwatering scent of fragrant coming from the kitchen. 

“Joel, I’m home!” you announced, making your way to the kitchen only to find it very dressed up. The lights were dimmed, a crisp white table cloth rested on the table, and a gorgeous arrangement of flowers sat in a vase in the middle of the table, right next to a rather nice looking bottle of champagne. 

Joel was finishing up plating something spectacular as you came in. “Please, have a seat,” he directed. You didn’t need to be told twice. 

With the arrangement of the table, you almost felt like you were sitting at a fancy little restaurant, but better, knowing all the effort Joel had put into making the table look this way.  He brought over two plates, set one over at his seat and one in front of you, before leaning down and kissing you gently. 

“Congratulations. I am so, so, so proud of you,” he said after finally pulling away, reaching for the bottle of champagne on the table.

“If anyone in the world deserves good things,” he turned away from you so that he could safely pop the bottle. “It’s you. I’m glad you’re finally getting the recognition that you deserve.”

With the bottle opened, he poured you out a glass, then poured himself some. You lifted up your glass and Joel mirrored you.

“Cheers,” you said with a grin, tapping your glasses together, then taking a sip. Once you finished drinking, Joel leaned in for one more kiss before he situated himself back into his chair. 

“I think you deserve a promotion from best boyfriend in the world to best boyfriend in the universe,” you softly laughed, looking down at your plate. 

“Do I? I think anyone would celebrate the person they…” he paused for just a split second, and you probably wouldn’t have noticed it if you weren’t paying such close attention. “The person they’re sharing their life with if they made a big accomplishment like this.”

“Honey, you’d be very surprised. I can think of at least one person who would view this promotion as a bad thing.”

“Well, don’t think about them right now. This is an amazing thing, and we’re celebrating you today. Not an insecure man with a Napoleon complex and a small penis.”

You laughed out loud, nearly choking on a bubbly sip of champagne. 

“You’re right,” you picked up your fork and knife, reading to dig into the amazing looking meal in front of you. “Thank you for this, Joel. You always make me feel so appreciated and cherished. You’re truly one of a kind.”

He shook his head bashfully at the compliment, eating right along with you. It was almost cute how he never seemed to accept compliments, but certainly deserved them more than basically any other person that you knew. 

“You always show me how much you care about me. It’s only fair that I do the same.”

“You’re so romantic,” you sighed. “How can I guarantee that I can keep you around forever?”

“Just keep being you, I guess. That’s all I’ve really ever wanted.”

How did you get so lucky? How did you manage to hit the jackpot on men with Joel, almost let it slip through your fingers not once, but twice, and still managed to end up with one of your favorite people in the world? 

However it ended up happening, you certainly weren’t mad at it, and as you sat together, you hoped for things never to change. 

Plus One

Given that you practically lived at each other’s homes now, you often spent your mornings together getting ready to take on the day. It was cute how you both had your own little routines and were able to coexist in a tiny little space. 

Today, you stood in Joel’s bathroom, washing your face as the mirror across from you began to become progressively more foggy from the heat of Joel’s shower. 

“My hair is gonna be so frizzy,” you muttered to yourself as you rubbed moisturizer into your skin. 

“Hey, you’re the one who wanted to come in here with me,” Joel shot back from the shower, turning the water off. 

“Whatever,” you grumbled, getting back to work on your face as Joel dried himself off and wrapped a towel around his waist. 

“You’re so cute when you’re grumpy in the morning,” he commented as he approached you, standing next to you at the sink. 

“I am not grumpy,” you argued, then paused once Joel gave you a very disbelieving expression. “Fine. I can get a little irritable in the morning. Especially when someone’s boiling hot showers make my hair get all frizzy.”

“I wonder who that someone is?” Joel looked around the room in faux confusion. 

“Ugh, shut up. You are such a dad,” you fought back laughter, but you couldn’t really help the smile that appeared on your lips. 

“Shutting up,” Joel acknowledged, grabbing his razor and some shaving cream to touch up some of his facial hair. You began to brush your teeth, focusing on yourself in the mirror to make sure that you were making your dentist proud. 

Your eyes eventually migrated and were meeting Joel’s in the mirror. You flashed him a big, foamy grin, and he immediately broke into hysterics, setting the razor down so he didn’t cut himself while laughing so hard. 

“Really?” he asked between laughs. “While I’m shaving?”

“Sorry,” you shrugged with a self-satisfied smirk. 

“You are such a dork,” Joel sighed as he calmed himself down, leaning against the counter as he began to work on shaving his face once more. “Ugh, I love you,” the words seemed to come out of his mouth involuntarily, if the horrified look on his face told you anything. 

It seemed like the whole house stopped after Joel said it, the dripping from the showerhead ceasing, the faint buzz of the air conditioner nowhere to be found, and the noises of your children downstairs coming to a halt.

You were shocked at the admission, and Joel seemed to be shocked that he’d said anything. 

Now that he’d mentioned it, you really did love Joel. You loved how he supported you, and how he treated your daughter like she was his own. You loved that he wasn’t afraid to fight for what he believed in, especially when that included socking your ex in the face. You loved his ability to be vulnerable with you, and the way that he seemed to always know what to say at the right time. You loved knowing that no matter how shitty of a day you’d had, Joel would always be there, ready to order your favorite foods and spoon you while decompressing with the worst, most trashy reality TV you could find. 

You’d spent all this time thinking that you’d never experience romantic love again, that romantic love was tumultuous and exhausting, when you’d been in love with Joel the whole time. 

You were one of those people who were meant to love and be loved. Joel had proven that much to you. 

“I love you too,” you confessed, toothpaste still obstructing your mouth.

Maybe love wasn't so bad after all.

[fandomlurker333]

A lot of people are screaming throuple and just writing the porn (which I get! It’s fun!). But reading them come is not enough for me. lol Toxicity is hot until it’s just damaging and sad for everyone. I want real happiness for these three weirdos.

The end of the film was meant to be the very beginning of something. Just the spark of an idea of them coming back to one another. But the real work starts after. 

And I think it would probably be a step-by-step thing. 

I can see Patrick and Art working to draw closer, with that strong foundation of their childhoods to build off of. Obviously having to resolve the hurt that so much time and distance caused them, and both being willing to forgive. But it’s clear at the end of the film that the door is open for that. They grew up together. There’s a real root of knowing that I think could carry them through the toughest parts early on. Their relationship evolving feels possible.

And Tashi and Art’s marriage would find some breathing room and maybe even some renewed delight for having Patrick present and loving on them both. Kinda seeing each other again through his eyes type thing. Remembering they’re more than who they have been to each other for over a decade (both operating in one mode to survive, never quite enough for each other -- not totally fulfilled and not appreciated in their fullness).

I don’t think Patrick and Tashi would be having sex at this point, but I can see like….tennis dates where they bicker. Just them all learning how to be in each other’s space for extended periods of time and enjoy it.

And maybe Art wouldn’t resent Tashi so much for not being able to give him everything (so much has been taken from her — she just doesn’t have all that much left. She’s been doing her best.) and maybe Tashi would feel more at peace seeing them play each other and knowing Art is really loving tennis, not just playing for her. Connecting with them both in that space and finding joy in tennis again, so it’s not just routine and pain and loss for her.

With that healing happening concurrently (with therapists as support, of course), I think they’d get far. And then once those relationships are more secure, once Art and Tashi learn how they relate to each other when he isn’t winning for her (which would be something new. They don’t know what that looks like yet!) then Patrick and Tashi, having learned way more about themselves in relationship and how to communicate, might start working on their side of the triangle lol. 

I could see them all exploring and working out the intimacy over time — not just sex, but intimacy -- what do they each need and how do they need it? And kink too, the various ways they each want/need to give or receive so they all feel truly satisfied.

And of course they’ll be partners co-parenting. All of them.

I can see Tashi finally grieving her injury, the life she lost, and rediscovering her love of tennis, not to win, but for the joy of being on the court. Her sobs the first time she plays again and it’s not competitively, just a little volley, but it’s like she’s finally alive again. Reminding herself she’s a leader in tennis the space still, that she can build success in that world even without Art’s career, but maybe it looks different. I see a healed Tashi learning to enjoy teaching kids. Taking on more protege. And letting Art and Patrick come help at her tennis camps. 

Art retiring like he said he wanted, running the foundation as Tashi steps back. Realizing that he’s actually pretty good at this business thing and going back to school for a Master’s in nonprofit leadership. Meeting new people. Making friends (that aren’t Patrick). Getting invited to a pottery class and seeing he loves to work with his hands. Playing tennis with Patrick on the weekends.

And my heart for stay-at-home dad Patrick. Who always forgets to change over the laundry and leaves his keys everywhere and puts the babies' shoes on the wrong feet. But my god he loves those kids so goddamn much. Patrick learning to cook for the family and getting really good at it like he does anything he hyper-focuses on. Patrick finally having a home with the two people he loves most and figuring out how to create some routine and stability for himself within that container.

The love in that home. Ugh. I think it’s possible! I think they can do it! It just takes work. 

[katierosefun]

not to sound like a broken record, but every once in a while i just remember that beyond evil really said that a strained relationship between a parent and child does not necessarily have to be straightforward, in that han joo won clearly despises his father (you sent me away, you’re the reason my mom’s dead, you were never interested in who i was until it was relevant to your career) and yet joo won still has a room in his father’s house (even though you locked me out without a warning) and they still eat dinner (even though you shoo me away when i tried to approach you) and joo won even still gives his father a dozen chances to prove that he’s not an awful person (just tell me the truth, just tell me the truth, and i promise i’ll help you) and even in the finale, you see a bit of that anger and disappointment and pain in joo won’s face and hm something about beyond evil saying that the relationships between parents and child are complex in that no matter how many times a parent kicks at their child, there will always be a tiny, tiny part of the child that still wonders if there’s even a sliver of a chance of a functional relationship--

and you see a bit of that in jeong je and his relationship with his mom too, in that his mother almost obsessively looks after him. she hovers over him, keeping track of his medication and sending him away to hospitals (is it out of love or self-preservation or shame? or maybe it’s all of those things at the same time), and she decides that she’ll protect her son first and foremost, but then the second it’s convenient for her, she tells him that she’ll throw him away. (she doesn’t want to be called “mom” anymore. maybe it’s true that she was only a mom, but isn’t that what every kid wants from a parent. for their parent to be their parent first.) and yet, despite that monstrous moment, do hae won still has a whole breakdown when she realizes that jeong je might truly kill himself, and there’s something pathetic about that (if you truly cared about your child, you would have known the kind of hell you were putting them through) and yet a little tragic too (how come it had to take you that long to realize your child was in hell).

and you see some strains of that with dong sik and jae yi, in that both of them had such beautiful relationships with their parents, and yet there’s something in both their relationships that broke that down. for jae yi, she loves her mother but there’s a small part of her that resents her for suddenly going missing--as soon as you come back home, i’m going to walk out of this shop and never come back. and yet she loves her mother, even with all that resentment and hurt and confusion within her, even before she learns of the truth. (she’s the one who runs over to the morgue every time a new body’s found. she’s the one pestering morticians and prosecutors about where her mother might be. she does this every year, even though she’s angry, deep down she’s angry.)

and then with dong sik, who has so many fond memories of his parents--you see that grief and sadness on his face when he talks about how just overnight, his father was no longer his best friend. dong sik left so quickly after the accusations against him because how could he stay, when his own parents either can’t look at him in the eye or look right through him? and there’s some bitterness there too--and even more bitterness when dong sik visits his mom, scoffing at the idea of being a good son (because he’s not a good son, he’s the son who ran away from home the second he thought he no longer had a home, he cleans his mom’s hands a little too roughly because he doesn’t do that often anymore). of course, dong sik loves his parents, of course, dong sik loves his mom, because he still talks to her (even if she can’t understand him), but there’s that grief underlying it all too. his mom isn’t herself anymore, and dong sik might not get that back, and maybe he’s bitter more at himself than he is at his parents, but at least there’s something there for him to hold onto, at least at the end of it all. and maybe that’s kind of all that someone can do when they haven’t always had the easiest relationship with a parent--the good parts are good, but the bad parts are bad, and maybe that’s as much as anyone gets.

[oftenwantedafton]

haunted | dave miller x female reader

rating | explicit

part 2/?

words | 3.2k

cw | blood/injury

ao3 link

taglist | @tylerxrbtwhp

There are a lot of things that the spectral version of Dave Miller resents in this new afterlife.

Perhaps the greatest of these is the lack of freedom; to be bound to the very place he’d spent so much of his living years in irks him, although he supposes this is where he would have chosen to dwell for an eternity regardless, if he had been given the choice. It still rankles that he had not been given that choice. He does not like the idea that there is some unseen, unknown force that has guided him to this destiny; something more powerful, something with knowledge that he doesn’t yet possess.

Still, a strange kind of fate all the same, because he can’t exactly consider this torment. There are no roasting hell fires or devils with pitchforks. There is no torture at all, no pain, a complete absence of feeling unless he concentrates very, very hard, willing his body to be able to physically interact with other objects, to touch and move things as he sees fit.

The first of these, of course, is his own body.

The corpse still springlocked within the yellow rabbit suit deserves dignity, if not a proper burial, which is impossible given the current state of things. He wonders about what that funeral might have been like; if there was anyone left that would mourn the loss of him. It is a curious thing, to stare at one’s corpse and contemplate whether this really was such a tragedy after all. He still has his mind, his thoughts exist, and the many inconveniences of inhabiting what was really just a meat suit, when all is said and done, he is no longer burdened by. This is how he rationalizes what has happened, how he moves from the initial surprise and fear and disgust to a renewed sense of purpose and determination. He will survive and he will prevail.

Dave could ask the other spirit possessed animatronics to assist him, of course, but that does not sit well with him. It feels too much like admitting their own powers are superior, and he can’t abide by that notion. His pride is too strong. He has to be the one to do it. He does not know why his spirit has not been bound to the animatronic suit like theirs had, and the brief, curious attempt at reinserting himself into it, just a quick overlay of his hand over one of the fur and metal encased ones, had proven futile.

The question then becomes where he shall place the body. He doesn’t want it rotting away in the maintenance room for eternity. Imagining the odd trespasser here and there coming in and discovering it, poking and prodding at him like some freak show museum curiosity is distasteful to him. It needs to be somewhere secure. Somewhere he can lock it away. His office is the obvious choice, though he laments the idea of losing that work space. So many great things had happened there. So many ideas given birth. But now wasn’t the time to be sentimental. He could create again, and that genesis didn’t need to happen in that particular room.

The manager’s office is a good distance from where he’d met his demise, and he knows this is going to be a challenge. He debates about where best to cling to the yellow rabbit, which venue will provide the best leverage to shift that weighted figure merged with his own former one. In the end he tucks his fingers in the gap beween the head and the torso, gritting his teeth and focusing until at last it moves a faint increment.

The effort of that venture surely takes many, many hours, though he cannot say for certain, for the face of the watch on his wrist has stopped, forever frozen at the precise moment of his death, the edge of one of the springlocks snapping down to shatter the casing, rendering it useless. It is still on his wrist now; not by choice, but by whatever rules have determined that he wear this broken reminder for eternity, now a permanent part of him, along with the security guard uniform, the left sock with the hole at the great toe that infuriatingly has unraveled just shy of letting it free, the nail forever catching on the unraveling threads, and the receipt for a soda he’d purchased but had never gotten to finish still tucked into one pants pocket for safekeeping, nestled beside a premiere issue Faz Token he’s always kept as a sort of lucky charm. His car keys and wallet are on his person, too. Everything right where he’d last placed it. Now his to hold onto forever.

He finally reaches his goal, fumbling the key into the lock and shoving the door open. His desk is a mess of unfinished projects, covered with scribbled notes and sketches. There is a space beside the steel filing cabinet that he props the rabbit against, the head tipped sideways, his own head visible through the gap in the mascot’s teeth. The trip has jostled the cadaver considerably, the sharp metal embedded within sending fresh rivulets of blood oozing from the fatal injuries. It is enthralling in a morbid sort of way. Strange that he cannot recall anything of the accident; not the failure itself, nor what he was even doing just before it. A trauma his mind has shielded him from, perhaps. Something that could surface later, unbidden and terrifying.

Dave shrugs, deciding he’ll deal with that if and when it occurs, kicking at a stray cobweb he’s just noticed tucked into the corner of the room, the spider that’s chosen to take up residence there not in sight. The sticky threads do not yield on the first attempt and he curses, redoubling his efforts. He’s exerted so much influence in moving the body; perhaps there is a limit to what he can achieve even with concentration after all. Sheer willpower might not be enough.

He surrenders for the time being, his attention returning to the yellow rabbit. He has never been religious, so he is not going to pretend to be so now. There is no eulogy given, only a solemn period of staring at the bloodied, damaged suit and the bloodier, more damaged man trapped within. Then he turns away, considering the ritual completed, and considers what his next step will be as he locks the door behind him, the key cooperating after several tries. Definitely losing mental stamina. He needs to recoup, let that psychic energy recharge. At least walking seemed to be something his new ghostly form could manage without any conscious effort.

He enters the nearby security office, his eyes falling on the red and white striped cup that sits three quarters full on the desk, the soda likely heavily diluted now that the ice has long since melted. He does not feel thirst, nor hunger, but he is curious to see if he can still taste, lifting the cup and slotting the straw between his lips, the plastic sawing with a harsh whine against the lid as he adjusts it and takes a long pull.

Nothing. He cannot feel the liquid enter his mouth; his tastebuds now blind to what is brushed against them. So that is it, then. No longer any purpose in eating or drinking, not that he had been doing much of the former in recent times and far too much of the latter in the form of alcohol consumption when his mind had been at its most troubled, more and more near the end.

He sets the cup back on the desk, glancing at the rows of monitors. All is quiet within the pizzeria. He is the only thing moving, and he is not even alive. The ghost returns to the dining room, head tipping back to view the scattered stars through the skylights above, the narrow crescent moon that adorns the rest of that dark spill of the heavens. The smell of the restaurant is surely only in his memory, another sense that he’s lost during his spectral transformation, but that recollection is still vivid, a potent mixture of dust and carpet fibers and cleaning solution used on the flooring, the metal of the arcade coins and greasy pizza and the musty synthetic fur covering the animatronics onstage.

He can still hear how the establishment had once sounded, years ago, when he had used his real name, worn a different looking face. The pizzeria had been full of talk and laughter, the punch of fingers on the buttons of the arcade cabinets competing with the loud digital music, the radio hits from the last couple of decades playing from the jukebox, the rattle of plastic balls in the pit mingling with their heavier wooden counterparts rolling down each skee ball track. He vividly remembers the first day that Freddy’s had opened, and can hardly forget the day it had closed. So much of his life had been dedicated to this decaying tomb of memories.

So now what?

He can hardly spend the rest of eternity wallowing in self pity, now can he? There has to be more to this. Things he can still achieve.

Dave notices a child’s giggle and realizes it is not the first time he’s heard that sound since entering the dining room. It’s coming from onstage. He cannot tell which one it is from that noise alone, but he recognizes it all the same. He’d momentarily forgotten, so wrapped up in adjusting to his new existence. Not alone after all.

Not the only ghost haunting Freddy’s.

***

The ghost children do not make for good company.

When Dave wakes them, for that authority he had established when he’d still been alive has not wavered, rendering them still subservient and under his control, their first desire is to play hide and seek, to frollic and gambol among the aging pizzeria’s rooms, to be what they naturally were. They are capable of so much more, of course; something much more dangerous. Lethal. But for now, they are not called to such heinous tasks. So it is laughter that serenades him as he jots down notes in his cramped, tortuous cursive, calls for attention he’s unwilling to spare as he inverts the mechanical pencil and erases some of the sketch he’s just created, then begins anew. There. Better. But the noise is too much. He’ll bid them to return to their stasis again. He needs peace and quiet. Solitude.

For now, at least.

***

Dave can no longer dream.

There is no longer any physical requirement for it, of course; no need for rest, for slumber, for quieting the mind. Yet still he finds he craves it; that activity he’d strived so hard against in his lifetime, staving off sleep with the frenzied need of his research, now something he wishes he could still indulge in. There is almost too much time to think, now; an over abundance of it. So he does not sleep, but he does take moments to shut his eyes, to slow his useless breathing, an autonomic response like blinking that serves no purpose any longer yet seems to be permanently ingrained into his being, and he enters a type of meditative state, clearing his thoughts, making his mind a blank slate. Then he lets the pieces filter back in, little by little, slipping through the tiny cracks he allows.

It is during one of these sessions that the sounds begin. Something is happening. Not inside the pizzeria itself, but nearby. The building shakes and he feels the vibration; wills himself to feel it, resting a hand against the desk, his eyes snapping open to view the monitors. The feeds are static, the signals interrupted. He frowns in confusion, still not comprehending what’s happening. This is not an attack from vandals. This is on a larger scale. Construction, perhaps? But how? He owns this place. It cannot be sold without his consent. They can’t possibly mean to tear it down.

The specter lurches to his feet, heading towards the place with the best views of the outdoors: the dining room with its long glass front. Through gaps between the boards he can see the bright yellow of construction vehicles and hear men’s voices. They are nearby, but they are not demolishing his establishment. They’re concealing it, he realizes. They’re building right around it.

And there’s not a damned thing he can do about it.

***

Someone has entered his pizzeria. Someone who is still part of the mortal coil.

You.

He senses your presence as soon as you step inside the building through the hole in the wall the construction crew never bothered to repair. The children love playing near that gap, peeking at what lies just beyond, a world full of color and light and life, and they have spied you this day, luring you back inside. Perhaps you will be the playmate they have been searching for.

His eyes fall to the drink you carry, and he tries to detect what scent it might emit, his nostrils flaring in an act of futility, forced to instead imagine the contents: something sugary, most likely, perhaps with notes of citrus or berries. He knows it is only an illusion that his mouth waters. There is no reason for it. He can no longer taste. But he wants to do that very thing just then. The impulse of that desire is maddening, nearly overwhelming.

He has not spoken to another adult in a long time.

Has not spoken aloud, even, for his cohabitants can respond to thought just as well as speech.

It feels strange doing so, now. The inviting words to return again feel wrapped in rust. The smile he attempts is stiff and unnatural; likely more of a grimace. You look anxious to be gone. He can hardly blame you. Freddy’s isn’t what it once was.

Neither is he.

***

You’re working until close.

You’ve been uneasy since the events of the other day, when you’d used your break time to traverse the length of the shopping mall and wound up discovering the abandoned pizzeria.

You wonder about the fate of the children, hoping they’ve made it home safely. You wonder even more about that security guard, Dave.

What an odd man he is. Unsettling. He’d looked almost as if he was part of that restaurant, linked to it somehow. Black and white contrasting with the colorful world beyond. A relic from days gone by.

Your decision to return is solely to ascertain that all is well; at least, that is what you tell yourself.

In truth, you can’t quite shake those pale eyes from your memory. That smile. Creepy, yet alluring. Compelling in a way you can’t quite define. You’ve been bewitched.

This end of the mall is vacant again. Quiet. Only you disturb the stillness, drawing back the plastic sheeting, picking your way through the rubble, nearly tripping on a dislodged cinder block as you go.

You think about calling out to signal your presence as you enter the dining room. The moonlight easing through the skylights sends a shaft of pale light down onto one of the tables like a spotlight. The neon lights displayed on the walls hum with power as you approach the smaller curtained stage. A wooden sign labeled Pirate’s Cove is driven into the end of the display. The curtains shrouding the platform are bright purple and covered with glittering silver stars. There are painted wooden cut outs decorating the walls here, pictures of a pirate ship and swelling ocean waves and a fishing net with plastic sea creatures and seashells lodged along the webbing. Wooden posts are linked together with coarse braided rope and a replica seagull perches atop one to inspire a nautical theme. The curtain is within reach and you find your hand stretching towards it, ready to draw back the drape and expose the animatronic within.

“So you’ve returned.”

You jump, whirling around to see the security guard standing behind you.

“Dave, you startled me.” You press a hand against your chest, feeling how fiercely your heart is pounding. “Did the kids make it back safely the other day?”

“Is that why you came back?” One eyebrow quirks.

“Well, sure. I mean, why else would I…”

“They’re fine,” he says. “They’ve returned to where they belong.”

You think it’s a bizarre way to phrase it, but then again, so was the man uttering it. “Oh, that’s a relief.”

“You’re here late,” he observes. “It must be nearly time for the mall to close, now.”

“Yes, almost. Well, I don’t want to bother you, I’m sure you need to do rounds or something.”

“The area is secure.” He lifts an arm and points and your gaze follows the path indicated, spying a security camera tucked high onto the wall.

“Cameras. That makes sense, I guess.” You nudge at a piece of rope that’s frayed and fallen between two of the posts with your shoe. “Do a lot of kids come in here? To explore, I mean.”

“Not as many these days.” You nod. “Would you like a tour?”

“Oh, no, I…I wasn’t planning on staying. I should probably get back. I don’t know what time…oh, you have a watch. What time is it?”

“No longer working, I’m afraid. But judging by the position of the moon I’d say close to nine.” He directs your attention now to the skylights.

“It must have been really pretty in here, once.”

“Yes, it was.” There’s an almost wistful expression on the security guard’s features that softens the harsh angles.

“Have you worked here a long time? Are they going to restore it?”

“Yes, I’ve been here a long time. As for renovation…that seems unlikely. You see how the developers have clumsily concealed it. Building another mall right around it.” Bitter now, the softness fading.

“At least they didn’t tear it down outright.”

“They couldn’t; not legally. The owner still has rights to the property.”

“I’ve heard stories before about developers buying out neighborhoods and building right around homes when people refused to sell.”

“Do you think that’s foolish of them? To refuse to budge?”

“I think in the end no one really wins. The place that was their home is now surrounded by commercial buildings. The commercial buildings are interrupted by someone’s residence.”

“The prices to be paid for greed and nostalgia. Condemned by pride and an unwillingness to compromise.” He tips his head to one side, considering you. “You think they should have just surrendered.”

You’re not sure if he’s talking about the restaurant or the housing scenario. Maybe both. “I guess it depends on the situation.” You shiver, rubbing your hands over your arms. “It’s cold in here. They don’t pay the heating bill?”

“Apparently not.”

“I don’t know how you stand it.”

“I hadn’t noticed, to be honest.”

“Hot blooded, then.”

His lips twitch. “Maybe.”

“I’m gonna head back. Thanks for taking care of the kids. I’ll see you around.”

“Come back again and I’ll give you that tour. I’m always here.”

“Yeah, I hear that. Home away from home, right?”

The pale man nods. “Exactly.”

“Take care, Dave.”

You begin heading back to the gap in the wall, turning once last time to find the moonlit dining room empty once more.

Dave has vanished.

[delusionalbitchinthehouse]

please tell me everything you want about ifrit and alpha i love your thoughts!!

ok here we goooo ! This is sooo long lmao

So obviously Alpha was Ifrit’s mentor, and despite both of them being fire ghouls, they’re quite opposite.

i already wrote some angsty Alpha & Ifrit thoughts, so I might be repeating myself a bit here but yeah, Alpha is the raging fire fueled by acidic resentment and bitterness, while Ifrit is the comforting, crackling bonefire, full of energy and optimism. (That’s not to say that’s ALL there is to them obviously, Alpha is fiercely loyal and cares much more deeply than he let on, Ifrit has deep self-worth issues, but that’s not the first impression that you get of them)

While Alpha was Ifrit’s mentor, he started off reluctant, unsure if he was the best suited for this task ; him, the impatient, hot-headed, stubborn ghoul, to teach a bright-eyed, clueless thing, one that despite all his efforts, Alpha can’t help but see as his replacement - because he is, and it sort of hurts ?

Turns out, though, Ifrit is not that clueless. He’s bright, a tad mischievous, easygoing and overall good company. Alpha discovers an enthusiastic, hard working student, fast learner and a bit perfectionist. Too funny, too charming, too endearing for Alpha to keep his distance, keep pretending he’s only doing this because he has to.

They do butt heads from time to time, but Ifrit backs down pretty fast with a shrug, even when he knows he’s right - no need to rile Alpha up more than reasonable.

But more than the lessons and easy banter, more than the flirty comments - the first time it happened, it left Alpha quite stunned, the audacity he had never expected in Ifrit. He liked it, though. Very much so - more than that, it’s Ifrit readiness and enthusiasm at the idea of sparring with Alpha that really brought them together.

Nothing better, to get close to somebody, than rolling around on the mats, all sweaty and disheveled, right ?

Hours spent throwing themselves at each other really sealed the deal, then.

Alpha feels protective of Ifrit, obviously. He’s his mentee, his responsibility…and maybe a painful reflection of what Alpha once was, or what he could’ve grown to be -more carefree, less burdened. There’s a part of himself, that he hates, that’s still a bit bitter, though, about being replaced. Alpha burries it deep, deep, and pretends it doesn’t exist.

Ifrit, of course, looks up to Alpha, but he also desperately wants to help him, tend to those bleeding, festering wounds that Alpha is riddled with, pretends he can live very well with. (He cannot. He’s barely coping, and Ifrit sees it).

Later, tho, when they are no longer mentor/mentee, when they are both retired, their relationship shifts a bit. Ifrit gets bolder in his teasing, more purposefully trying to get on Alpha’s nerves ; Alpha let himself be rougher around him, no longer trying to smother his sharp edges as not to frighten the new fire ghoul - who is now not so new anymore. Oh, he still calls him « kit », ruffles his hair and that sort of things, but he’ll also snap and growl, not afraid anymore of driving him away.

Ifrit also stands his ground more, not letting Alpha have the last words if he’s wrong. And if Alpha thought Ifrit’s flirting was bold before, oh boy is he worse now.

They know - truly know - each other better now. The darker parts too. It’s still hard for Alpha to confide in Ifrit - he still feels like he has to spare the younger fire ghoul, but he gets there, as much as Alpha is able to - confessions are difficult for him.

But now Ifrit knows Alpha sometimes is jealous of him - possessive over things Ifrit wouldn’t dream of taking from him (coughPebblecough) - (and Ifrit sometimes likes to use this knowledge for evil, in a harmless way that he knows isn’t crossing a line between fun and hurtful) and Alpha knows that Ifrit struggles with feeling no longer needed, never enough for people around him - in his gruff, awkward way, Alpha is always there to remind Ifrit that he is more than enough.

There’s days where it’s hard for them to be together, though. Fire on fire, two ex-lead guitarists, still subconsciously fighting for the spotlight, even as they don’t have a stage anymore.

Other days, they’re joined at the hip, the loss of that stage and spotlight drawing them to each other, and you’ll see Alpha keeping a thin, see-through facade of annoyance, even as he runs his hand through the hair of a chatty Ifrit, knocking their shoulders together and edging him on with « come on, old man, surely you can spar a little longer », « show me what’s left of the mighty fire ghoul » and others « what ? Scared of getting your ass handed to you ? »

And Alpha will answer with scoffs and « don’t overestimate yourself, kit, i taught you everything », « settle down before I make you eat your words » and such. His smile, though, is never well hidden.

They balance each other, in a way, two jagged puzzle pieces not supposed to go together and yet fitting together so easily.

[hyperactivewhore]

How do you think Klaus’s and Hope’s relationship would be like if he was still alive?

I know that when he died, they had a good relationship - but to me, after everything Hope had went through, I don’t find that really realistic. Honestly, if he had survived, I think Hope would be pretty resentful towards him. He did abandon her for years (he could’ve called, texted, or something but he chose to let Hope believe that he didn’t love her). He put her at risk multiple times so he could see his brother while pretending Hope doesn’t exist and ignoring all her calls. He flirted with Caroline while Hayley was in danger. He made Hope believe that Hayley’s death was all Elijah’s fault.

And I’m not trying to deny that growth Klaus had throughout the series. I do think he has changed in some ways. But at the end of the day, he’s still Klaus. He’s still controlling, possessive, and manipulative. He still harbors this secret desire to be the loved the most by everyone around him. He was threatened every time Rebekah dated someone he didn’t seem ‘worthy’. He greatly disliked the fact that Elijah chose to erase his memory and shacked up with some Nazis (mostly because Elijah erased HIM and didn’t love him anymore). He absolutely hated that Marcel fell in love with Rebekah (not because of any normal reasons like Rebekah is his aunt and literally watched him grow up - but because he didn’t love Klaus the most anymore).

I can see him being possessive and monopolizing all of Hope’s time/attention to make up for the years he lost and because he wants her to love him more than anyone else. Which is why I disagree when people say that he would love Lizzie/Josie/Landon/ or any of Hope’s potential love interests. He wouldn’t outright kill them like he he did with Rebekah’s lovers (as I said, he did grow throughout the series), but he definitely wouldn’t embrace them into the family with open arms. At best, he would be standoffish. At worst, he would be one of those annoying creepy parents that tell their child’s boyfriend/girlfriend “I’m the number one person in their life. I loved them first.”

Honestly I’m trying to think of a time when Klaus actually accepted one of his siblings love interests into the family. Marcel and Hayley don’t count. He literally adopted Marcel as a son. He raised Marcel and brought him into the family before Marcel and Rebekah got into their sick little relationship. He first accepted Hayley (not because of Elijah) but because she was the mother of his child and then because he actually grew to like her. But other than Marcel and Hayley, I don’t think he was ever really that welcoming to any of his siblings’ girlfriends/boyfriends. Maybe Keelin? But did Keelin and Klaus even talk?

So, yeah, Klaus wouldn’t disapprove of Hope’s relationships whether it romantic or platonic. But I don’t think he would encourage it or embrace any of Hope’s friends as family. I do think he would fuss and throw a tantrum if Hope prioritized any of her relationships over him. Wasn’t he jealous of the mere idea of Hope liking Elijah (someone he loves and obviously views a family)?

Honestly, if he was still alive, I don’t think Hope and Klaus would have a good relationship. With her resentment towards him for the years of abandonment and his role in the death of her mother, Hope would probably prioritize her friends/school over her relationship with her dad. And I think Klaus, with his jealousy and controlling tendencies, would have a major issue with Hope prioritizing anything else over him.

If the show had good writing Hope would absolutely resent him at first.

I think a good part of why Hope forgave him in canon in season five was because she was gonna die at first, and then he was the one who would die and she was grieving enough, she had already lost her mother a week ago and I dont think she wanted her father to die having a bad relationship with her. She was in pain, she was vulnerable and she knew she was never gonna see her father again, so she chose to let go from all their issues and just spend their last days together.

But it's just so bad developed. I believe Hope resented Elijah not just because of his "part" in her mother's death, but because of how much Klaus loved him as well. Hope was begging for the attention that Elijah didn't want and yet received every single day just by existing, and even her mother was clearly still hung up on him. How would that make a little girl feel? Imagine you grow up hearing stories about your loving uncle, who continously prioritizes family, only for him to turn around, force himself to forget all of you, leave your mother and your father unable to fully move on with their lives and the moment you finally see him again after almost a decade, he hasn't only "killed" your mother, now he's gonna take your only living parent - the one who had no problem ignoring your existence because he was too busy staring at his brother playing the piano - with him as well.

Hope knew Hayley was still in love with Elijah even years after their breakup, her mother basically asked her in the afterlife to tell her uncle she still loved him, her own father endangered everyone in New Orleans, including herself and her kidnapped mother, just because Elijah broke his heart: he did not care he was driving both of them closer to their deaths, his brother had hurt him and he needed to make everyone around him pay, his own daughter included.

In my opinion, Klaus’s priorities have always been very obvious:

Klaus himself

Elijah/Hope

Whatever love interest he feels like entertaining at the moment/Rebekah

His other siblings/Marcel = Hayley, in case he's seeing them as family at the moment

And yes, in that order. Klaus didn't know how to parent his child now that Hayley was gone and Elijah dying no matter what, and most importantly, he didn't want to. He only knew what Hope meant to him, not who she was (which, personally, infuriates me. If you're gonna create a show centered around a magical baby who shouldn't even exist in the first place and the insane maniac who happens to be her father, at least make her father get to raise her).

The Originals being centered around Hope was, in my opinion, a big mistake. Her existence wasn't a problem for me (if anything, I would make her first appearance later in the show, season three/four, perhaps), but for a show called The Originals, the Mikaelson sure don't appear a lot. I think that's the biggest problem people have with the show, not the Mikaelson being out of character, which is ironic, in my opinion, considering only klaroline and kalijah stans seem to believe that.

In the universe's canon, I just can't see Hope having a stable relationship with any of her paternal family, her father included, had he lived. I'm not saying they would've been constantly fighting, but I do think it would be a constant fragile line in their relationship where Hope would just try to ignore how much he hurt her during her early life, only for them to get into a fight about it, and then go back to ignore it. If Hayley had lived or been resurrected, I see Klaus and Hope's relationship being kinda the same as what I stated, perhaps slightly more sour, perhaps not, because I certainly see Hayley being mad at Klaus for being so careless with her life.

I personally believe Hayley and Cami wouldn't have allowed anything of what happened to the family in season five, Elijah and Klaus practically switched personalities, all the klayley and klaroline moments were so obviously meant for Camille and her relationship with Klaus, Caroline was absolutely out of character, and everything was very rushed and poorly developed.

Thanks for the ask!

[joanofexys]

here is your reason to talk about emeryk wesninski 👉👈

Emeryk Wesninski my beloved (not really. I also forgot he existed and debated killing him dead again instead of confronting my embarrassing ocs)

If it isn’t obvious he’s intended to be Neil’s brother, which I’m probably gonna skirt around as much as possible due to my own shame lmao

Emeryk Wesninski:

25 years old

he/him

queer idk he’s not gonna sit there long enough to slap a word on it

played striker

was supposed to start on the Ravens lineup with Emiko their freshman year

dropped the sport for academic and familial pursuits (also cause he was not about to major in fucking business)

We’re gonna pretend I know why the hell I decided having an Em (Moriyama) and Em (Wesninski) was a good idea cause I did create them at the same time but honestly? fuck if I know.

Pretending I can do math I think there’s a six year gap between Neil and Emeryk. Or at least it’s around there. So when Mary and Neil went on the run Emeryk was 16 years old and pretty deeply involved in his father’s business. Not that he enjoyed it. He and Mary knew there was a far smaller chance of success survival with three of them instead of two and Neil had the better chance. So he told her to just him and go, with only a little resentment.

Emeryk escapes some of the worst parts of his father’s work through a series of deals with the Moriyama’s, specifically Ichirou. He and Ichirou aren’t far apart in age and now he of course wonders what the hell was doing, but he would rather have indebted himself to Ichirou over Kengo. And he knew one day Ichirou would be in charge, he just didn’t expect it to be quite so soon.

So instead of getting sucked in deeper (to the Wesninski’s business at least), he’s able to somewhat save himself. He enrolls in Edgar Allan University at 18 and doesn’t sign a contract to play with the Ravens. Despite it he and Emiko still become friends and he has some, albeit limited, interaction with Kevin, Riko, and Jean.

He studies criminal justice and goes on to study law. All of it, of course, being put towards working for the Moriyama’s. But at least he’s not actively killing people.

He spends a lot of his time covering up any tracks Mary and Neil leave behind. Whenever he can find them, he knows that means someone else will, and he does his best to remove any sort of paper trail or hint to their existence. Even if it’s just confusing Nathan’s men. Anything that gives them enough time to create a new identity and move.

He’s not exactly happy about it but he does feel like it’s part of what he agreed to years ago. So he lets the resentment build and does it anyway.

And when Neil shows up at Palmetto, seemingly not even trying to be subtle, he is so fucking pissed. Everything’s undone. He can run his mouth and mess things up as much as he wants but he knows it’s only a matter of time.

By the time Baltimore occurs Emeryk is so far removed from the Wesninski’s and so deeply involved with the Moriyama’s that he doesn’t even see it coming. At least not fast enough. When Stuart reaches out to him he reluctantly agrees to work with the FBI, temporarily, to find Nathan.

That’s the first time Neil and Emeryk see each other in years. Emeryk’s pretty sure Neil doesn’t remember half of it, blacked out from pain. And he sure as fuck wasn’t going to stick around to visit him in the hospital. He gets out of there with the intent of talking to the least amount of cops he can.

He forms a bit of a relationship with Neil after that. Mostly “don’t talk to cops”, “seriously get a fucking lawyer”, “have you considered not running your damn mouth?”, and the like. But ultimately he doesn’t give a shit what Neil gets up to. Not his business (though he can’t help but keep a worried eye on him to make sure he’s not getting into too much trouble. He spent too long doing it to stop. And if it has the added benefit of seeing his brother happy and healthy, somewhere he can call home, no one else to needs to know)

While Emeryk didn’t wind up a full blown serial killer he’s still a worse person than like Emiko. He’s very much out to save his own skin. He’ll always go with his best chance of survival. For now that lies with the Moriyama’s. But if a better opportunity ever presented itself he’d take it in a heartbeat.

And idk that’s just a little bit about Em (Wesninski) who I made 4-ish years ago and forgot about until now

[strawbrygashez]

I read a bunch of soapshipping fanfics today and I love how so many of them give Tyler actual flaws and treat him more human than he ‘actually is’ in the movie and…I wanna share some hcs i have that make Tyler ‘not perfect’ as well. I get the point that in the movie Tyler was supposed to have none bc the narrator needs to drool over him & see him as godlike but whatever. That man has issues. You can especially see this during when he was going Joker mode when he was getting beat up by Lou. Anyways this is going under a cut bc it’s long

————————————————————————

• I’ll start with the out with one that’s most common which is that Tyler is soooo bad at sharing how he’s feeling or being super heartfelt. The only person he even tells his true deep emotions to is the narrator after they’ve been together for a while. I feel like he would be that way due to how he was raised and or trauma. Getting him to admit to feeling uncomfortable is hard too. He wants to come off confident all the time so he will just smile at whatever is thrown at him even if it’s making him upset or anything like that. Also of course he has a hard time expressing how just deeply in love he is with the narrator and how much he cares about him. (Which causes problems for them both but they work thru it. Nothing could keep the narrator away from Tyler at the end of the day.)

He wouldn’t admit it but I think maybe he also resents himself for not being able to say certain things easier. He knows he hurts the narrator sometimes when he’s not saying ‘the right things’ and he genuinely doesn’t mean to hurt him in that way.

•He can get pretty jealous. Not like how the narrator feels like he’s about to kill himself bc someone even glanced at Tyler but like, if Tyler thinks someone is being a little too friendly to narrator or if he thinks the narrator might enjoy being around someone else ‘too much’ he gets all huffy, smiles threateningly, and either interrogates the narrator over ‘what that was’ later or just roughs him up some when they are in private again. He hates the idea so much that the narrator could look up to someone the same way he does Tyler. He has questions going through his mind along the lines of how are they better than him? What does he see in them? Do they make him feel more loved? And etc.

Hypothetically he should know that the narrator would rather die than touch anyone else & that the narrator sees him as a God but,, Tyler is just like that :/

•Ok now for a not widely accepted hc about Tyler. I don’t think he’s that good at writing or reading. He’s not terrible at it but I think he really didn’t give a shit about most things in school besides history. (He could probably give a big whole speech about how bad school systems are)

He doesn’t really care that he’s not that good at either of those things but does get a little embarrassed about it when the narrator points out he spelled something wrong. He will just grumble about “who cares?” or “whatever dipshit.” The narrator doesn’t mind that Tyler’s not the best at it and helps him out when he needs to without picking on him.

•Kinda canon but he’s a act before thinking type of guy in most situations. He prides himself on it for the most part but also there is times where it doesn’t end well for him. He will defend himself about whatever he did ‘wrong’ for a while until he finally is some how able to admit he’s sorry and shouldn’t have done something (only to the narrator. He doesn’t care that much if it’s anyone else that isn’t especially close to him)

•I think he had a self h*rm problem growing up. He doesn’t do it anymore now that he’s older bc he has fight club and whatnot. I think SH helped him come up with FC since he thought physical pain always helps solve mental pain.

He doesn’t hide the old scars since he can blame it on like a ton of different things and people don’t have a reason to doubt him. Like he can say he got them from years of fighting, while running away after getting caught doing stuff he shouldn’t, stuff like that. Sometimes he also just doesn’t lie about it and just says straight up what they are from. It just depends on who and how he feels that day. Like mostly the only ppl who know what they are really from are the narrator & tylers close family and maybe Marla.

Not to be cringe…I know the “he kissed my scars 😢😢” things can be cringe (believe me I would know) but I think Tyler thinks it’s sweet when the narrator does kiss his. The narrator hates that Tyler ever felt like he had to do that (but at the same time is okay with fight club??? Lol) The narrator has stayed up in bed while Tyler is sleeping and just looked at all of them and thought to himself about how Tyler must of felt, why he felt like he had to, and all that.

•My man has some kinda mental illnesses. I couldn’t say what but he just does. He’s a very impulsive man and can become very manic is all I can really say.

•He will get ideas and plans in his head and focus on them a little too hard and it’s hard to pull him out of it. The narrator is really not someone who should be fussing at people for not sleeping but he does anyways. He offers to work out whatever plans or ideas Tyler has while Tyler rests. Sometimes Tyler will let him & sometimes not. If not, the narrator will at least stay close to him so they can talk about whatever is on Tylers mind.

•He actually used to hate his laugh a little when he was a young teen. He got over it after a couple years and now doesn’t give a fuck what others think. He will laugh as loud as he wants in a quiet room if he wants to.

•Going back to that manic thing, I think the narrator can usually calm him down. It especially helps if he’s holding Tyler and pulls him away from whatever has him worked up. Narrator will run his hand up and down Tylers back or just talk to him soothingly. Tyler is usually thankful for it once he’s calmed down.

•Canon-ish again but Tyler can get a bit in over his head with some stuff. He believes he can do just about anything which leads him to getting into situations where he finds out he actually has little to no idea what he’s doing. He had this problem as a teen too like he’d say stuff like “Sure I could fix your fence!!” or just like little odd jobs around the neighborhood and he actually doesn’t have much of a idea what’s going on but It helped him learn how to do all kinds of different things in the long run. He just always finds a way to make things work more often than not in his own ‘Tyler’ way.

•Okay often he really doesn’t genuinely care if someone wants to listen to his speeches/knowledge or not. He likes sharing them since he knows they’ve helped others but he’s been doing that for as long as he can remember even at inappropriate times. Like I dunno, as a kid at a funeral I could see him just telling some random person there about how he knows how bodies decompose, how bodies slowly rot and what each stage looks like. (I think that’s why he loves the narrator. He loves how randomly weird he is as well.)

•He needs attention all on him. He loves it so much and feeds off of it. His favorite kind of attention is from the narrator and he will get snarky and whatever when he feels like he isn’t getting enough from him but also he just thrives off attention from anyone in general. It’s what makes him carry himself so confidently. He knows people are dying for a minute of his time and to be the idealized version of himself he puts off.

•He doesn’t allow himself to cry in front of others. More than likely it’s because of his father saying boys shouldn’t cry or be weak. He knows it’s bullshit deep down but he still holds that mindset for himself. (If another dude is crying like the narrator, he won’t give them much shit for it.)

•My final idea for right now….he hates the doctors and all things like that. He can say a ton of reasons why but the main ones are he just feels super uncomfortable at places like that because either 1. He doesn’t want them going on about how bad his or the narrators health is & being really worried for them and questioning them.. or 2. He just finds it hard to be as snarky or smart to ‘em. They all don’t usually fall for his bs unless they are a part of fight club or project mayhem.

[pikachu78109]

General Pokémon Villain HC’s PT. 2

((Part 2 of the Pokémon villain headcanon saga. Characters are in no particular order. Also, content warning for a few entries. Also, forgive me for some spelling and grammatical errors.))

Lusamine🪼

Although her actions are abusive and controlling, it all stems from grief. Of course, it’s not an excuse for how Lusamine treated her children. Lillie and Gladion haven’t done anything to deserve this kind of treatment. As deplorable as her actions are, Lusamine convinced herself that she’s trying to do the right thing in order to bring her husband back. However, it became twisted and vile, morphing into obsession rather than a valiant effort. Lusamine has no idea of what she’s doing as her desperation and obsessive behavior cloud her good character. Whatever respectability she has accrued over the years goes out the window as she tries (and fails) to succeed in her personal mission.

Truthfully, Lusamine resents Ultra Beasts (UB for short). They took her husband away and are the sole reason why her obsession took root. Her children ran away because of UB’s and she got possessed by Nihilego, the toxins of which are still somewhat present in her system that couln’t be removed.

Speaking of Nihilego’s toxins, the doctors in Kanto (and some from Alola) were able to remove most of the poison from Lusamine’s body. However, a few areas have latched onto her system strongly, making removal impossible and could cause complications. Such areas include her head and arms, inhibiting mobility and memory. There are moments where the poison does affect her vision, so Lusamine cannot see quite as well whenever it occurs. Fainting spells happen often that doctors recommended Lusamine to be confined in a wheelchair for a few months until they can figure out how to completely remove the poison entirely.

Currently attending therapy. Aside from the possession she endured by the hand of Nihilego, Lusamine attends therapy to work out her own mental and emotional health. Going to therapy was actually Lillie’s suggestion.

Deep down, like really deep down, Lusamine loves her children. She does. However, trying to rebuild that love and connection that she destroyed by her own hand will take a long time. While Lillie is open to the possibility of reconciliation, Gladion is more hesitant.

Doesn’t really operate too much at the Aether Foundation. Most of the responsibility has fallen onto Wicke and Lusamine sort of just shadows here and there. She’s embarrassed about showing herself to her peers and usually does foundation work online inside her home. Her work gets looked after by Wicke, as an added precaution.

Whenever Lillie comes home from Kanto, she tries to spend time with Lusamine. While Lillie is open to having a relationship with her mother once again, it’s difficult as bad memories come flooding back. However, Lusamine encourages Lillie to talk about it and allows her to air out the painful feelings that were brought about during that time. Lusamine doesn’t say a word and just lets her daughter vent, because to her, she needs to be reminded of what she has done. When Lillie finishes, Lusamine reminds Lillie that she has every right to be angry and every right to not forgive her. Lusamine wants to be a good mother to her kids, but understands that it may not be possible given what she has done. All she can do is listen and validate their feelings and promise to be better.

Ghetsis👑

An unstable individual without a doubt. Can barely distinguish reality from his own warped twisted view.

Everyone’s just a pawn to him and it doesn’t matter who. The Seven Sages, his useless Grunts, and, of course, N are all parts in his little toolbox. He could easily convince others to do something or, God forbid, trust his word with a simple heart to heart. He’s a master at words and knows what strings to pluck.

Such a drama queen, emphasis on drama. Ghetsis literally cannot stand being criticized nor ignored. He surrounds himself with yes men, ie. The Seven Sages, and their unwavering approval towards him gives him the push to keep doing what he’s doing. Just like how a cult leader operates.

Ghetsis doesn’t get Pokémon. He understands they are fantastical beings, but he never understood them with a humane approach. He acquired his team from the Seven Sages, each one gifting Ghetsis their partner Pokémon to dedicate their loyalty to him. These Pokémon had no idea of the world of hurt and mistreatment that Ghetsis would soon bestow upon them. Ghetsis’ “training” wasn’t anything like Pokémon battling or sparing. He would force his team to undergo harsh experiments to push beyond their limitations to the point of life threatening. Hydreigon got the worst of it and actually retaliated against Ghetsis by viciously attacking him, causing near fatal injuries.

I want to theorize that Ghetsis’ lineage, the Harmonia name, may be linked to the Abyssal Ruins somehow. It’s a long stretch, but for some reason, I see Ghetsis having some strange connection to the sunken temple with its abundance of wealth and knowledge. The ruins might have been a palace or something akin to the Library of Alexandria, where Unovian rulers amassed a swath of power and influence and knowledge over the region. I feel like Ghetsis’ family tree may have something to do with it considering how the site seems to be full of unsolved mystery. And knowing how other NPCs talk about it and the items that the player can find, it just feels like something that can be traced back to Ghetsis as he’s someone who believes has a divine right.

Ghetsis feels phantom pain on his right eye all the time. It got taken out by Hydreigon and he can’t see quite as well. However, he’ll feel a throbbing sensation. However, he doesn’t feel any pain or discomfort on his right side at all. It’s just his right eye.

Has a dark sense of humor. A morbid sense of humor.

If there’s ANY sense of normalcy with this man, he’s an avid reader. He likes to engage with mythology and science, primarily related to technology and energy, as well as history books about Unova’s past. Anytime where he’s not plotting world domination, he’s got his nose in a book.

Despite being an adoptive father, Ghetsis has never formed a genuine connection with his children. Concordia and Anthea barely spent time with him, but whenever he would, he’d be soft and gentle. Of course, it didn’t stop him from brainwashing them into his cult and putting the responsibility of N’s well-being over their own, especially at a young age. He would always emphasize N’s importance as crucial and simultaneously make the girls believe that their existence is to serve N. As for N himself, well, we all know the story by now.

Lysandre🔥

Gonna be real honest here: this dude gave me a lot to think about, headcanon wise. It’s not so much the fact that he’s kind of intimidating to write about, but more on the fact that he’s kind of mid whenever the topic lands on him specifically. Lysandre happens to be both complicated yet interesting, so it gave me something to munch on.

Lysandre oozes with confidence. He takes pride in his work and public image. He can handle stress pretty well and knows exactly how to deal with issues that crop up in his daily life, which I can only hope to aspire to be one day.

His relationship with Sycamore is near and dear to him. Lysandre shares mutual respect with Sycamore and keeps in touch to get any recent news or highlights on the professor’s research. These two go way back and their interactions are pleasant and low key. However, as they gotten busier, their meet-ups dwindled. Still, Sycamore remains as Lysandre’s closest friend and someone whom Lysandre can turn towards whenever he’s upset about something.

Connecting with the prior point, knowing Lysandre’s villainous goals and the overall destructive effect it would entail, he decided on a selective few who he wanted to spare. Sycamore happened to be person number one.

People perceive Lysandre differently and it all depends on who you talk to. Some say that he’s quite generous as a philanthropist while others say he’s elusive and hard to read. Others make assumptions based on superficial observations such as his wealth and popularity. Honestly, it’s never consistent.

Despite what others think, Lysandre falls into the introvert category. He doesn’t like to be in public for long periods of time, but bears through it because of his job.

Coffee lover. I mean, he has his own café so it’s pretty much canon?

I’ll just say it here: Malva is a simp for this man. She has special connections with Lysandre and as a result she’s able to get the full scoop on his secretive activity behind the public’s eye. Lysandre absolutely knows that Malva’s got a thing for him (I mean, she’s got good taste) and he definitely does use that to his advantage. He can convince her to manipulate the media, as well as divert any attention away from him while he conducts his Team Flare work. Malva doesn’t question his authority and she’s pretty much a ride or die. Nobody expected Kalos’s top reporter to be part of this nefarious group, which I suppose could be Lysandre’s doing as a way of showing thanks by protecting her reputation.

Him wanting to wipe the world clean from all of its impurities brewed inside of him for a long time. Initially, he really wanted to make people’s lives better with his humanitarian efforts but became tired and frustrated each time people complained that he wasn’t doing enough. Like, this man tried endlessly to provide a solution. The results continued to yield nothing and it sprouted the seeds of resentment and hate within Lysandre to pursue the nuclear option. To an extent, I see where Lysandre comes from. It sucks when people keeps pressuring you to do more, to give more of yourself to people, yet get little in return. However, it doesn’t negate the fact that Lysandre was willing to commit mass murder on people because they kept bitching at him for minor reasons. You can’t fault the man for being pissed, but still: Genocide ain’t it.

[simpforfandoms]

Never Love Again

listen to the song shawty baes

100 followers WOOT WOOT 🙌

thanks y’all so much here’s some angst bc I’m a little angst whore, also requests are open so please request I'm running out of ideas

part 2

pairing: Jason Todd x reader (i don’t think any gender is specified)

genre: angst

summary: Jason Todd’s death has left a mark on you

word count: 1251

warnings: death, descriptions of abuse (kinda). I did not proof read this

masterlist

April 27th, that's when he died.

wish I could, I could've said goodbye

His funeral was held at the Gotham City cemetery. He was buried in the Wayne plot. You know he would much rather be buried next to Catherine Todd. Not Martha and Thomas Wayne, people that he didn’t even know. Bruce invited you to the funeral. When you arrived it was filled with people Jason didn’t even know. People that he wouldn’t want there. The funeral was a glorified press conference. Bruce used the funeral to explain his wards death. Of course he couldn’t tell them the truth. That Jason Todd died a hero. It infuriated you to see Bruce fabricate a whole story to keep the truth away from the public. It infuriated you that the Joker was still on the lose after what he did to Jason. It infuriated you that the whole world sees Jason as an immature child. It infuriated you that you didn’t stop him from going.

if I knew it would be the last time

You knew that him trying to find his birth mother would be dangerous, but somehow he convinced you that it would be okay. You made the mistake of trusting him. With a goodbye kiss he walked out the door. That was the last time you saw him alive. If you would’ve known it would be the last time, you’ve would’ve held him tighter. Kissed him longer. Begged him not to go. But at last the past is the past.

I would've broke my heart in two

tryna save a part of you

When Bruce told you the story of how he died, you laughed a bittersweet laugh. Of course it was like Jason to try to save someone that he barley knew. You only wish that Jason could be seen as the hero he truly is.

 I wanna pretend that it's not true

You didn’t believe he was dead at first. Even going as far to make Bruce take you to the morgue where his body was. When you saw him you couldn’t contain your self. You broke out in a sob, holding his lifeless body, begging for him to come back. Anything. Bruce had to drag you off. It was evident that it wasn’t a fast painless death. It was slow excruciating death. The love of your life didn’t deserve to die like that. No one did.

that you're gone

At the end of the service Dick came up to you to offer his condolences. You find it ironic that Dick, the person who resented Jason from the beginning, now suddenly cared for him. You tried to be nice to him. Put on a brave face. You know that’s what Jason would’ve wanted. He wouldn’t want you to cry over him. But just because you didn’t cry doesn’t mean you weren’t in pain.

cause my world keeps turning and turning

Years after his death and you still weren’t over it. You’ve went off to college, graduated, got a job at a boring tech company across the country, but yet everyday you thought about him. You only did all those things because you knew Jason would want you to continue living your life. You’ve been in countless dates none of them ever filling that Jason Todd sized whole hole in your heart. Maybe part of it is that you don’t want to move on. You don’t want to forget the time you had with him. You don’t want to know another kiss. You don’t want to feel another touch. You don’t want to give your heart away to another stranger. You’ll never love again. You’ve rather wait to be reunited with him in whatever afterlife he’s in.

and I'm not moving on

Jason lived in the apartment across from you. It was just you and your dad and Jason and Catherine. Your dad was hardly home but when he was he was either passed out drunk or hitting you drunk. You saw Jason every morning when you left to head to school. Jason never went to school, he would stay home taking care of Catherine. He would stare at you. A part of him was jealous. You got to live a life he never could. Eventually you got tired of his cold stares and confronted him.

when we first met

“Would you please stop staring at me” You said

Jason was stunned for a moment he had never heard your voice before. Angelic was how he would’ve described it. Regaining his composure he said, “Don’t flatter yourself”

“Wouldn’t dream of it” you rolled your eyes and continued the journey.

I never thought that I would fall

That was the first time of many you talked. Over the years you and Jason became best friends of some sort. When Catherine died, you were there for him. When he would come home with bruises and scrapes from stealing you would patch him up. When your dad got to be to much he would let you stay over at his apartment. When you he was adopted by Bruce Wayne you were heartbroken having to see him go. But you were happy that he got to leave this horrid place. He deserved the world. You still remember the day when he told you he was leaving. You two were sitting side by side on the rooftop of the building.

I never thought that I'd find myself lying in your arms

“So that’s it? You’re just gonna leave and never see me again?” You said voice cracking turning towards him

Jason eyes soften, he pauses, “you know I could never go one day without seeing you” trying to lighten the mood

“Jason you’re gonna go live in a mansion across the city. Be realistic.”

“C’mon y/n quit being a Debbie downer. I promise you I will always make time to see you” he said

You search his eyes trying to find any hint of dishonesty but you find nothing. You close your eyes and sigh, “I’m gonna miss you Jay”

“I know.” He said pulling you into a hug

don't want to feel another touch

Jason did keep his promise. You were enrolled in Gotham Academy with Jason. Probably because of a certain Wayne. You ended up seeing Jason everyday and spending frequent nights at the manor.

Your and Jason’s friendship eventually blossomed into more, slowly but surely. One day he came through your window all beaten and bloody in his robin costume. You freaked out at first until you realized it was just Jason.

“Jason what the fuck?” You whisper-yelled

don't want another name falling off my lips

He just groaned in response. You quickly grabbed the first aid kit and patched him up. He flinched at each stitch.

"Jay I need you to stop flinching"

"It hurts." He moaned

You hummed in response.

"Kiss the pain goodbye" Jason said abruptly.

You blanked out for a minute. A million thoughts flooded your brain. You thought it was joke. There was no Jason could feel the same way about you. Oh but he did. You were proven this when Jason pulled you down into a kiss.

I don't wanna know this feeling unless it's you and me

A bittersweet memory. Robin brought you together but also brought you apart. That's all you can think about before falling asleep.

don't want to give my heart away to another stranger or let another day begin won't even let the sunlight in oh I'll never love again

...

part 2

[anincompletelist]

5 fics under 500 tag! :D

OKAY here we go - thank you to @happiness-of-the-pursuit for creating such a lovely idea and way to share the love! thank you to @inexplicablymine for tagging me to do the challenge, and thank you to @kiwiana-writes and @read-and-write- for including me in your recs! I appreciate ALL of you guys so much and I hope you're doing well! <3

as for the fics --

I've carried this song in my mind | @kiwiana-writes | T+ | 2k

Henry lays eyes on Alex Claremont-Diaz for the first time in Rio, and it sends such a shockwave of longing and terror into the universe that Arthur feels it.

Or, five times Arthur tries to get Alex and Henry together from beyond the grave, and one time two times his intervention isn’t needed.

--

Henry Fox, All-American Hero | @tintagel-or-cockleshells | T+ | 6k

Henry Fox, normal grad student enjoying the American life, indirectly foils an attempt on the President's life. Naturally, the world falls in love with him. Naturally, Henry wants things to go back to normal. And they will after this medal-and-dinner deal, right? Where the President's extremely hot son is hitting on him?

--

(I know I've already recc'd this next one but I can't NOT include it)

the rubble or our sins | weather_stained | E | 14k

As the Emperor's grandson, Henry despises the gladiator games and resents being forced to attend them — that is, until he sees Alexander fight. 

It's a romance doomed from the very beginning, as Henry's family is already pressuring him into joining the army and finding a wife, but he falls hard for Alex nonetheless. Will Henry find a way to be with him, or will he spend the rest of his life looking back on their time together?

--

covered in you | @hypnostheory | E | 10k | part of this series

Alex blinks at him, tilting his head to the side. Sometimes Alex looks at him like he’s trying to figure out some strange riddle. “Can I ask you a personal question?” Henry switches to the other boot, nodding for Alex to continue. “Do you have a thing for leather?”

Henry blinks. “Erm, no?” He finishes working the leather conditioner in, letting it set. He wipes his hands off on his microfiber cloth, resisting the urge to smell the clean pine tar of the conditioner before he does. “I mean, doesn’t everyone like how leather smells?”

Alex stares at him for a few painful seconds. “Do you just like how it smells?”

--

never be so polite (you forget your power) | Standinginmoonlight | M | 6k

The one where Arthur Fox leaves letters for his children.

--

(and another because I couldn't narrow them down)

I'd hold you as the water rushes in | anonymous | M | 11k

“—lex. Alex.”

Fuck. Where had his mind gone? Alex snaps his eyes to Henry’s, forcing his attention back from where it had drifted. “I’m listening, I’m listening. What were you saying?”

Anyone else would probably be offended, or would just laugh at the clearly conflicting statements that had flown thoughtlessly out of his mouth. Instead, Henry’s brow crinkles, lips downturning as he scans Alex’s face. “Are you alright? You’ve been acting strange all night.”

Those blue eyes are much easier to deal with through FaceTime. Alex has to look away from them, less he caves and spills everything to Henry. He pastes a smile on, “Fantastic, Your Highness. All this bubbly is going to my head, the sugar’ll get me in the morning.”

-

Or, Alex drops on New Year's Eve

+

that's all for now! I was really surprised to find only a few fics with under 500 kudos in my bookmarks (which all deserve SO much more love) but I've saved all of the 5 under 500 posts I've seen floating around and I'm looking forward to reading them and hopefully collecting some more!

happy reading, and remember to be kind! :D

-- anincompletelist / sarah

[notjustdragonspages]

I come bringing gift: Just a small snippet(primarily fluff) of some random idea I'll likely never finish

“Look at me.” Donatello demands, and you snap your head to see his stern gaze.

“Just because I haven’t forgotten, doesn’t mean I haven’t forgiven you.”

You know he’s right, and you want to find it easy to believe him. He should be the one feeling this pain. You betrayed him. Then, why did your guilt still linger? 

“Stop getting lost in your head, and focus on what’s right here. On me.” Donatello gently grabs your chin, thumb brushing your bottom lip. Your eyelids flutter with an exhale, relieved by his touch. “If there’s one thing I am, it’s brutally honest. If I still resented you, you would know.” 

Another good point. He was a terrible liar. The thought brings a small smile to your lips. “You keep me grounded.” You admit, leaning into the touch, taking his wrist and rubbing his rough skin. Finding comfort in the familiar texture. “Donatello I-“

Your words are cut off as his lips crush into yours, and besides the initial shock, the kiss is sweet, as you both caress the other’s face. He always kissed with a purpose, every affectionate move he made was intentional. He was as delicate with you as he was with his work. It made you feel special. The thought alone made you enthralled, yet terrified  all the same. Because what would you do if that were to ever change? 

You both sigh out of the kiss. Donatello always had such a peaceful expression whenever you parted from such contact. Like he had just taken a breath of fresh air and you were the source. 

“What was that for?” You can’t help but ask him. You found it cute, his little explanations for just about everything. 

“I know the line, y/n.” He raises the tone of his voice, clearly mocking you, not out of malice of course.  “Something like “Donatello I don’t deserve you.” or “You would be better off without me”. Ring any bells?” 

You avert his probing eyes guiltily. “Sounds somewhat familiar.”

He taps the side of your cheek,

his hand still resting there. “Stop it.” He scolds.

You look back at him, and his genuine concern for you makes you want to crawl into the corners of his heart and stay there. There you would be accepted. Safe. You wonder how you got so lucky to be given a second chance by someone as amazing as him.

You sigh once more, resting your hand on top of one of his, the one still on your face.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

Your fingers entwine, grip firm with a promise; a promise of a tomorrow, and many days after that. 

“Okay.” 

By no means am I a very skilled writer, just like getting my ideas out sometimes :)) Have a good day/night!

WHAT DO YOU MEAN NOT SKILLED- JCJDJJSJJXJSJJSJXSJJSJJSJSJJSJZ

I need moreeeeeee WHAT DID WE DO??

[hiccupfound]

On Hermione killing Draco in Jagged

i’ve always wanted to give my explanation for this, but i fell out of fandom before i got the chance. tonight i was scrolling on my fandom tumblr, trying to find a gif to show my brother and sister in law, and i passed a jagger excerpt. one thing led to another, and i ended up reading the chapter after draco came back. (ch 30 i think?)

i know that some people were truly outraged on my choice to have draco murdered. a lot of people claimed it was out of character, and there’s a good amount of evidence for that, sure, but i think there’s a fair amount of evidence to show that it’s just as much in character as well.

originally, draco was supposed to live. originally, drarry was going to be end game. originally, abraxas was never supposed to come back to 1998, but sometimes you write the narrative and sometimes it writes itself. jagged was the story that taught me that maybe i’m not an outline type of author, because the final product deviated from the original idea so much that it was more frustrating than helpful.

admittedly, very much of the writing in jagged was therapeutic for me. a lot of hermione’s inner dialogue, self hatred, and “selflessness” are things i either see in myself or wish i could be. she’s far from a perfect character, but she’s powerful, level headed and smart. she doesn’t have many weaknesses revealed, not even when we spend half the story in her point of view. tom makes note of that several times when we get to his pov— that he has hermione on this pedestal, that she seems like some sort of impenetrable force.

but at the end of the day— hermione has dealt with extremely traumatizing situations that she had spent the better part of a year repressing. not only that, she was thrown back into 1998 quite suddenly, and even though we don’t see it in tom’s pov, it’s not hard to imagine how triggering that must be. hermione can put on a mask of indifference but at the end of the day that’s all it is— a mask.

i knew very early on that i was choosing the route of a dark order. the order has always been dark (its war, there’s really no moral high ground, despite what harry was brainwashed into thinking).

i felt very particular about how i wanted to pull this off. i didn’t want it to seem sudden or out of the blue. i also didn’t necessarily want “dark” to mean evil, because i feel like in jagged each and every character can be made out to be evil if you break down their actions in different lights. (this is a completely different essay)

draco’s betrayal was always a very dark spot for hermione. it brought on torture that she wore as proof of his disloyalty in her skin everyday. regardless of his actions or his orders, she thought this for years. she built resentment on it. is it logical for this resentment to play a part in her decision once she knows the truth? absolutely not. but that’s the thing, the moment draco steps into grimmauld place, logic has taken a backseat in hermione’s brain. she’s riding purely on emotions. she knows this, and yes, she has the wherewithal to recollect herself if she wanted to. but she doesn’t. it’s like she told remus. draco is her line.

second, hermione would have never, ever watched draco be tortured. damn the plan, damn the betrayal. she would have died to stop it. she would have gotten them both killed, probably. the point is, she couldn’t have lived with herself if she stood for hours and watched it happen. and with that knowledge, and knowing the pain she suffered through and that draco was able to stomach watching it the entire time… well, it was enough for her to not want him around anymore.

also, this was a last stitch effort for remus to prove his loyalty to her. i didn’t realize it at the time, but hermione and remus’s relationship mirrors jude’s and her step father’s from the cruel prince quite a bit. if you haven’t read it, (what are you waiting for?) the main thing you need to know is that they have an endlessly complicated, painful relationship wherein the love they have for each other is not stronger than their need to fight for what they believe is the greater good.

hermione viewed remus like a father, but that wasn’t a one sided relationship. remus loved hermione endlessly like he would his own child.

yet he still took a “calculated” risk. she was tortured and almost killed because of a decision he made. a decision he never planned on telling her about.

remus says he would do it again. and hermione knows it’s the truth, and in some ways she respects him for it. she’ll always be a soldier at heart. but it also solidifies his spot in her life as someone that will never, ever be family to her again. because hermione wouldn’t risk remus’s life for anything.

so she uses draco as leverage. remus sees draco as mostly innocent. his life lies in remus’s hands. he has to choose. hermione’s side, or draco’s life. it’s vindictive, yes, but hermione has just spent the past 4 years using manipulation to get what she wants. as a reader, it’s not a side of her we get to see a lot (aside from when she’s torturing michael, which admittedly, was meant to be foreshadow to this exact moment)

as an author i could have done a better job throwing in more unpredictable or emotional behavior on her part. but at the time, i really wanted this to be a turning point, not just for the order, but for hermione herself. this is kind of her first selfish decision in a long time. the first time she chooses something simply because it’s what she wants. as readers you may say, “her selfish act was to take a life?!” and to that i say, yes. yes it was.

i wanted hermione to be irrational just because. i wanted her to take her power and abuse it a little. we read stories about strong female characters with endless powers who fight and win big wars just to settle at the end in the name of morality or being the better person.

i didn’t want hermione to settle. i wanted hermione angry because she deserved to be.

of course there are arguments against why she didn’t, and of course logicially killing draco wasn’t the decision that made sense. but that’s the thing, hermione is a flawed character. she doesn’t (and won’t) make all her decisions based on logic.

women deserve to be angry. women don’t need to forgive.

jagged hermione doesn’t need to explain why she wanted draco dead, but as an author, i wanted to.

[mari-lair]

(Kannagi AU: Part 1)

Aoi had considered taking her own life many times, particularly resentful towards the village, sure her death should be something she decide, not a safety token for people that always treat her as if she was another species.

Teru beat Akane until he is unconscious cause the boy doesn’t know how to give up. He would be fine with letting Akane sleep in the bloody grass, sure kindness won’t give him a wake up call to their situation, but Aoi looked so worried when she asked to take care of him, not let him die, that Teru let her clean his injuries and personally carried him somewhere more comfortable to lie down, making sure Aoi is within his sight when he does so. Teru pretend is all for her, but he grows to care about Akane too, trapping him when Akane comes back ready to begin a fight he is in no condition to start, and letting the unconscious boy sleep in his bed while he takes Aoi out on flower field walks. 

Aoi told Teru he is one of the kindest persons she have met after he helped her take care of a sick Akane. Teru told her he feel the same about her, and both felt a strange mix of disagreement with the other judgment, appreciation, and even a bit of joy.

Akane was conflicted if he should help a village willing to kill Aoi, but despite making his dislike clear all the time he could tell people wanted to guarantee the safety of their loved ones, which he could empathize with, even if he despise their approach to use her friend as a scapegoat. Anyone that dared to say something bad about Aoi or imply she should die already would be beaten with no mercy even if Akane get punished for his violence after.

Akane used wooden sticks as a weapon at first, too young and weak to be trusted with a sword, but he slowly grew into the best non exorcist fighter in the village. Lack of spiritual energy make it so he can’t destroy monster's souls, but he can make them feel pain, buying enough time for the exorcists to do their job, which saved more than a few people.

Teru gave him the same protective bracelet he had given Aoi when he got hurt by a monster, greatly confusing Akane, who has no idea how to feel about the demon that stand in the way of Aoi rescue yet makes sure she is happy, looking after her better than anyone in this village and randomly helping Akane too.

Aoi still winces when she hears Teru land a hard blow on Akane, or when Akane manages to hurt Teru, hating how they both can smile kindly at her despite their lives being ruined by her, but she grows to feel some twisted sort of appreciation when she takes care of their wounds. Teru notices this, and she explains that it is the only thing outside her plants that make her feel like she has some worth alive too, that prove she is capable of good of her own. (Even if deep down she can't fool herself and know they are hurt in the first place because of her, that she just likes the feeling of being trusted with their very lives.)

Aoi asked Teru if he would like to escape with her and Akane, and while Teru had smiled at the tought, he had said no, spending the rest of the night talking about his dear family, which he haven’t been allowed to visit since his duties with Aoi.

A week before her death day Akane grows visibly more desperate and Aoi talk with Teru, making him promise to take care of Akane when she is gone, “He will be sad, but make sure he isn’t alone. Keep him company, as you’ve done to me” which Teru agree.

One of the main reasons she doesn’t want to die is beacuse they’ll be sad, and the other is that they might move on. (She felt awful for hating the idea of them being happier without her, aware once Akane and Teru move on from her she will have nothing, but she keep these feelings to herself.)

On his quest to find a powerful supernatural, Akane nearly dies a few times, spending far too much time with nothing to give him hope. When he desperately wish he had more time, he is found by an old man that reek of supernatural energy. The old man offers him a heavy wood clock that he claims can stop time: For every minute Akane stop time, the old man will steal one year of his lifespan. If the clock breaks, Akane will die.

Akane accepts the old man clock and hurries to the village as fast as he can while carrying the weight of his life in his hands, he reaches Aoi’s house at night, a few hours before her sacrifice. He isn’t surprised to see Teru and Aoi awake past midnight, but he doesn’t expect Teru to rush toward him with rage when he notices the cursed clock.

He stops Teru’s time before he can do anything, already very familiar with all his tricks and strategies after fighting Teru for most of his life. Akane uses 15 years of his lifespan, unaware the exorcist has resistance to any supernatural power and will not stay frozen in time for 15 minutes.

Aoi is horrified by the turn of event, she had yelled for him to let go and had to be dragged out, even if she didn’t resist nearly as hard as she could, part of her still wanting to run away with him. Far far away from this dreadful life (even if she wanted Teru to came too)

Teru only stays frozen in time for six minutes, but he is panicked to not see either Aoi when he is able to move again, expecting Akane to pull something crazy after abruptly stoping his rescue attempts so close to Aoi’s death day, but not that he would sell his soul for power.