#i also do not have an iota of continuity within me

[padfootastic]

Say it with me: Sirius hates Death Eaters, but not Slytherins. Informing the trio that Snape hung out with a gang of Death Eaters was informing the trio that their teacher at one point was totally chill with murdering blood purists and called them friends (you know, totally relevant info with Voldemort on the rise, one person in the trio being the Boy-Who-Lived, a Muggleborn in the group, and the other member being relayed to a family well-known as blood-traitors. It’s rather important for them to know who believes in blood purity and who doesn’t, esp in light of everything occurring in GOF), and explained how he knew them as they were in the same house. And, whether one likes it or not, Slytherin house has the highest number of blood purists that we see, that’s simply canon. We can debate about why this is the case all day long, but the facts remain that Slytherin house has a slew of baby bigots and adult bigots as alumni.

(Also, some people are really weird about insults to the Hogwarts Houses. It is fiction, you will never be in them and while you might have traits of one house, normal people have traits of every house)

ha one of the things i find funniest is when people got mad at j*r for being mean to the slyths as if there’s some overarching moral code that says authors can’t do that lol like,,,,i love those lil fuckers (in all generations, across characterisations and magical alignments) but you HAVE to admit the nature & nurture is sus in that one.

also +1 to everything ur saying about sirius. u know i love ur arguments, anon.

[ashen-sky]

Personal highlights from...

Red vs Blue The Ultimate Fan Guide

In honor of s19 and the continuation of where s13 left off, here are some highlights from the ultimate fan guide published back in 2015. I've been re-watching the show and it made me want to flip back through the guide. (Everything is sort of in the order it appears in the book, with a few exceptions)

Delta appears as a guide of sorts with fun facts

Caboose's position is listed as "Team Rookie/Occasional Captain/ Church's Best Friend" (it is actually struck out in the book)

He is also the only one listed with the title Captain, appearing as "Private/Captain Michael J. Caboose" (due to Wash "promoting" him, in the canyon on chorus)

Tucker is "Private First Class", Church, Donut, and Simmons are "Private"s, Sarge is listed as a "Colonel" under rank (the other Red's and Blue's ranks appears with their name while his is under "position"), and Grif is "Minor Junior Private, Negative First Class"

Wash used to be a chronic bed wetter (thanks D)

There's also a six page transcript of his psych eval prior to PF where we find out he injured a commanding officer because he wanted to "send everyone to their deaths", he also put a former bully through a mirror in fifth-grade

Grif is stated to have been assigned to Blood Gulch because he was the only survivor of an alien attack on a colony during the great war, he fell asleep at his post and everyone assumed he was KIA

Donut's position is listed as "On all fours... cleaning Red bade"

Doc's profile is "Doc/ O'Malley" and the whole thing lists both their interests, i.e "Position: Canyon Medic, Galactic Overlord"

Andy's (the bomb) name is "Andrew D. Kaboom"

Sheila and Filss share a page

Tex's notable attributes are "Kicking ass (and nuts), being a mean lady, and resurrection"

The password to unlock the file on Beta that CT left behind was "Allison" (Thanks again D)

York's page comments "Several reports were filed against Agent York claiming he and Agent Carolina had something of a "personal" relationship [...] Freelancer Command was unable to find any proof to support these accusations."

One of his notable attributes is "watching his right side" and his position is "team scoundrel"

Eta and iota (Carolina's AIs) were "fear and happiness"

According to the official time line, Carolina was around 6 when Allison died (Allison died 23 years before Blood Gulch and Carolina was born 29 years before)

Wyoming's real name is Reginald

South Dakota's Status is listed as "Extra Crispy"

Smith once spent two days contemplating in silence what Caboose meant when he said his favorite color was "Happy"

Dr. Grey's position is "(Mad) Doctor", she was considered a prodigy at age 11 when she diagnosed every patient in House M.D. within five minutes of their introduction, and she thinks Grey's Anatomy is "far too trite"

Felix and Locus' names are listed as Unknown in the book, but I do believe their names were revealed in a s14 episode

The counselor advised the director to tell Tex that Alpha was in Blood Gulch to protect him and stop her from investigating the project

Notable Features of Blood Gulch include "Avoid Tucker's Rock at all costs, as it has not been properly sterilized"

BTS from D: The opening shot of Season 6 was created by shooting players moving in different quadrants and combining the shots"

Important events at High Ground, "Washington killed Agent south in cold blood- with a much less cold flamethrower."

Fact from D: "Once a year, Reds and Blues stationed at Rat's Nest still pay tribute to Agent Alabama by sending a flaming mongoose soaring through the night sky."

Donut likes to spend his leisure time in Federal Army Outpost 37, in the jail cells in handcuffs

The statistics pages, 9 pages of stats from number of robots murdered (112) to Church's sniper rifle accuracy (9.3%)

Bow Chicka Bow Wow was first said in season 4, and Simmons never sucked up in season 12, season one had the most "son of a bitch"s at 14 Donut made 32 accidental innuendos, and the odd number of pedals in vehicles was called out on five occasions Tucker has the highest kill count of all reds and blues (counting wash and Tex), at 24 followed by donut at 22 and Tex at 21, Caboose is the lowest at 2 raised by Lopez and 3 and Church at 8 Sarge has threatened/wished death on Grif 56 times, and Donut has nearly died five times Seasons 2 and 9 had the lowest kill counts Carolina had the highest flash back kills at 68 in season ten, and the twins are tied at 23 kills in season nine

Tex's attack to free Alpha was 2 years before Blood Gulch, the great war ended 1 year after Alpha arrived in Blood Gulch and after the Wyoming incident in Blood Gulch (where they tried to kidnap junior), Chorus takes place 5 years after Alpha initially arrived in Blood Gulch

The mission books has adorable illustrations (they look like Caboose's guides from s14)

There's a mindmap for all the Leonard and Allison iterations and they they connect

Sarge has a guide on how to build a robot, scented lube is preferred, along with mad scientist goggles, a cup of baking soda, and seventeen tablespoons of sugar

More silly plans with fun diagrams

Donut's diary, D tells us that Donut washes his underwear on tuesday's

Caboose's Wisdom section on: feelings, relationships, army etiquette (including gems like crayons don't work as bullets. Use markers.), life, and the reds and blues

Simmons made a text based adventure games

BTS from D, the story of Simmons refusing to go to the Vegas Quadrant is a reference to Gus Sorola (Simmons' VA) refusing to go to Las Vegas with the rest of the rvb creators

You can find the case against Sergeant Grif from the reds at rat's Nest (he was selling red team's ammo to Caboose before he was locked up in the brig, Private Jones wore a wire tap to help the red's catch Grif's under the table dealings)

Leonard met Allison in the mess hall during basic training where he pissed off another recruit and Allison had to save his ass (Church was right, Carolina get's her temper from her mom)

I'm Church. private Church. Leonard. Leonard Church." the only thing I cared about in that moment was that she knew my name. She smiled. Her smile could light up solar systems. "Kind of a funny name. Church." "It's Jewish."

I spent the rest of basic chasing after her. In some ways, I never stopped.

Here's hoping non of our beloved idiots die in season 19! I mean, I know Church will be gone, but the others... they deserve a happy ending.

Also I miss the freelancers and AI...

[catszu]

Writing Random Prompts Until I Improve Pt. 2

Prompt: Two people lost in a forest

Atsumu watches the twig underneath Sakusa’s foot snap with a satisfying crunch. 

“We’re definitely lost.” He says, shoving his hands deep within the pockets of his gym shorts. His legs itch where they’ve been rubbed by the various plant life on the overgrown trail. They’ve been out here for hours at this point. Far longer than they should have been. However, neither of them wanted to admit that they fucked up, so here they are, walking in the direction that they think the campsite is in.

“We are not lost.” Sakusa huffs. “The campsite is just down the mountain, how can we be lost if we just need to walk down.” He points in the vague direction of the slope of the hill they’re on. 

Atsumu eyes him skeptically from his position next to him. “I don’t know how we managed it, Omi. I jus’ know that we did.” 

Sakusa’s face pinches in displeasure. “We did not.”

“We absolutely did.” He insists. 

They stand at an impasse, surrounded by nature that was supposed to help them bond, staring hatefully at one another. 

Ever since Sakusa fucking Kiyoomi joined the Jackals last month, they fought like cats and dogs. Atsumu was having a great time, he always took immense pleasure from driving that stony expression on Sakusa’s face to something a little more unhinged. And Sakusa, the bastard, gave as much as he got. It didn’t have to make sense to everyone, just them. 

The rest of the team just didn’t understand their dynamic. They’ve known each other for years and have been frenemies ever since. 

So what if they fought, it was their thing. And if they made out against the cool metal of the lockers until their lips were bruised, that was their business. Although the team didn’t know that minor detail. Captain Meian tiredly explained that their little tiffs were driving the team mad and they couldn’t take it anymore. They sent both him and Sakusa on this rapport building hike to “inspire good sportsmanship.” 

It was a load of shit but also, he’d take a good excuse to get Sakusa alone and kiss that prissy pout right of his lips. 

That is pretty much what Atsumu was running with until about an hour ago when the exploring stopped being fun and Sakusa’s pouty lips started to get a little less cute. 

Atsumu sighs, watching Sakusa continue to make long strides down the slope. “We’ve been walkin’ down fer hours Omi-Omi. I don’ think yer ingenious plan is workin’.” 

Atsumu is right, he knows that he is. They walked this direction for so long now that his feet are aching and he’s pretty sure there are insects crawling in places they absolutely shouldn’t. Yet, they still haven’t made it back to their team. However, Sakusa favors ignoring him and continues to walk mindlessly in the same direction as before. 

Atsumu hustles his pace to catch up and grabs Sakusa by one of his arms, slick with sweat. “Omi,” he pleads. “Ya’ve got ta listen ta me.” Atsumu watches the perspiration on the back of Sakusa’s neck bead and trail down into the collar of his shirt. “It’s dangerous ta be out here for much longer.” He squeezes the pale arm that he’s holding. “We need help. Or a real plan! But ya can’t keep draggin’ us farther away from where we started.” 

Sakusa swivels around, eyes narrowing in a chilling glare. “What do you suppose we do, Miya? Our phones are fucking dead and there’s no one else for miles but us. Who the hell do you think is going to help us? God?”

Atsumu blinks. “That’d be real nice but I don’t think that particular one likes the gays.” 

“Clearly.” Sakusa nods. “I wouldn’t be stuck in a fucking forest with you of all people if god gave an iota of a shit about me.” 

“I think ‘m the best person ta be stuck with ya right now. Imagine Hinata or Bokuto.” Atsumu gets shivers just thinking about it. Sakusa may leave the forest, but his two brothers in chaos would be buried here. 

His attempt at comforting Sakusa falls flat as he withers under the unimpressed silence he receives in return. 

Well then. 

Ever the optimist, Atsumu pushes past him. “We should just make a camp and stick it out. It’ll get dark soon and I don’t think ya want ta be trying ta walk around a dark forest.”

“Make a camp out of what? Twigs?” Sakusa asks, incredulous. “Shall we make a bed out of these dried crunchy leaves and feast on the weeds?”

Atsumu waggles his fingers at him and smiles. “Now yer talkin’.” 

Sakusa's frown deepens. “I hate you. I really do.” 

He rolls his eyes, surveying the area for something to start building shelter with. He was a boy scout for 3 days with ‘Samu when he was 9. He learned some things. “Ya only have me with ya right now. Would it kill ya to make nice for a second?” Atsumu asks while he wrangles some large and flat leaves from their stem. He puts them in a small pile and looks at Sakusa standing behind him with limp arms and a sour face. 

“Ya could make yerself useful and try to find somethin’ ta start a fire with.” 

Sakusa’s face seemed to drop more, falling into a would-be-cute-if-not-for-the-circumstance pout. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to be looking for, Atsumu.” He whines, or at least Atsumu imagines that’s what a whine would sound like from someone as prideful as Sakusa Kiyoomi. 

Ah, he forgot. Sakusa is a city boy through and through. “Fine, bastard. Why don’t ya sit on that log over there and just look pretty. Don’t ya worry ‘bout it. I’ll do everythin’.” He gestures to the stump across from him. 

Sakusa sits with a petulant huff and crosses his legs delicately one over the other. He always sat so pretty even when he had dirt smudged across his forehead and his clothes are drenched in sweat. 

It was annoying. 

Atsumu loved it. 

He grit his teeth and got to work, with all the knowledge of a nine year old boy scout that was forced to be there by his tired mother. He remembers almost nothing but Sakusa seems to put faith in him as he watches Atsumu work from his place on the stump. For some reason, it makes Atsumu want to try harder. He knows that Sakusa is uncomfortable, ridiculously so. He’s extremely impressed that Sakusa has withheld his complaints about it for as long as he did. However, it looks like it wasn’t going to last, if his constant shifting meant anything. 

An uncomfortable Sakusa Kiyoomi was worse than an angry one because at least when he was angry, Sakusa made it clear. When he was uncomfortable and scared, he was frighteningly silent. They passed the time in utter silence, their only company the faint noises of the wildlife around them. 

He’s so focused that he nearly misses Sakusa when he speaks. 

“What if no one finds us?” 

It’s a scary thought and Sakusa’s sorrowful whisper made it even worse. Atsumu pauses what he’s doing, turning his entire body to face him. 

He looks okay. Albeit, uncomfortable. But physically, he doesn’t look all that different from how he usually does. If it wasn’t for the master class he’s taken in all that is Sakusa Kiyoomi since he was 15, he probably wouldn’t notice it at all. But he did. And it broke his heart. 

Sakusa’s eyes are slightly wide as he takes in their rapidly darkening surroundings. His eyes flick from one spot to another, unable to stay still. His hands, which are delicately folded in his lap, are shaking like a leaf, his knuckles white from the pressure he’s putting on them to keep them still. It’s pointless. He trembles anyway, his whole entire body is. He could be cold, with the sweat drying on his skin, but Atsumu knows that he isn’t. He knows that isn’t what this is. 

Atsumu stands, dusting the dirt off his knees and then wiping them on his soiled clothes. He walks until he’s standing directly in front of Sakusa, who doesn’t look up. He crouches down, becoming eye level with Sakusa’s wobbling chin. 

Atsumu’s heart pangs inside his chest. “Hey. Hey.” he coos. “Ya think no one cares where we are?” He wraps a single tanned hand around the top of Sakusa’s and runs soothing circles over the mole placed directly in the middle of his hand. “Havin’ a twin brother has some perks ya know? I hate ‘im but somehow he always knows when I need ‘im the most. And I do. I really do right now, so I know he knows.” Atsumu squeezes the cold, pale hand. “Even if he doesn’t, we’ve got other people too, yeah? I won’t let ya die here, Kiyoomi. I promise.” 

Sakusa takes a trembling breath, a wet laugh escaping him. “You really think your twin telepathy will save us?” 

“Don’t ya dare knock it when it’ll be the reason we’re out of this hellscape.” 

There’s a distant howl in the background. It sounded far but it was still enough to make them both jump. He was starting to panic too but he wouldn’t show it, not when the man in front of him looked two seconds away from tears. Sakusa’s eyes sparkled in the dim light and when he squeezed his eyes shut, Atsumu saw one small tear roll down his cheek. 

Something cracks inside of him, flooding him with warmth. He gathers Sakusa’s face between his palms, squishing his pale cheeks together. “We’re gonna be okay.”  He promises. He keeps his voice as steady and even as possible. “Nothin’ is gonna happen to us, it’s probably just a bird.” He lies, Sakusa is looking at him with desperation in his eyes, hanging on to every absurd word that he’s saying. And Atsumu, he’s not really sure what he’s saying, just that he can’t stop talking because it’s the only thing keeping Sakusa together. 

Sakusa hiccups, a sob shaking through him. “I’m scared, Atsumu.” 

Atsumu kisses Sakusa’s wobbling bottom lip. His knees hurt where they dig into the rocks on the ground, and he’s pretty sure that he’s losing feeling in his toes. He’s cold and exhausted. But it doesn’t matter. Nothing else matters. Atsumu presses more gentle kisses into the skin around Sakusa’s mouth, one after the other. He moves his hands from Sakusa’s lap to his arms, rubbing soothing circles into the delicate skin of his arms. Atsumu nudges him forward and Sakusa follows eagerly until he’s settled directly in Atsumu’s lap.

It’s a little absurd, Sakusa is huge. But he’s an even bigger baby so Atsumu doesn’t really mind all that much. He holds him and rocks them both slightly. Sakusa buries his face in Atsumu’s neck and they both don’t say a word. 

It gets darker. Soon, they’re completely encompassed with only the faint light of the moon glowing above them. Atsumu admires it. At home, all the way in Hyogo, he could see the stars every single night from his backyard. He spent hours and hours in their treehouse with Osamu and at one point, Atsumu knew the names of every single constellation. 

After moving to the city. he’s since forgotten them. But he wonders if he did remember any at all, would some be the same as he’s looking at now?

“Hey, Omi.” 

Sakusa merely hums against the skin of his neck in acknowledgement and Atsumu has to suppress the urge to hunch his shoulders from how much it tickled. “The stars are real pretty right now,” he says, rubbing Sakusa’s back. “I think ya should look at ‘em with me.” 

He feels him raise his head, his dark curls grazing against Atsumu’s jaw as he looks up. Atsumu has always thought that Sakusa was beautiful, even when he was a gangly high schooler with bad fashion sense. Up close, Atsumu thinks he’s breathtaking. 

He asks before he can think twice about it. “Wanna go on a date with me?”

Sakusa blinks, eyes still trained upwards at the sky before he slowly lowers his gaze, leveling Atsumu with those unnerving dark eyes. Atsumu doesn’t move. Doesn’t breathe. He just stares back, meeting Sakusa exactly where he is. 

“You don’t have to ask me that.” he says, eying Atsumu with a confused glare. “We’re literally already dating, we go out all the time and you have never asked.” 

Atsumu wheezes. “What? Since when have we–I never–when did we?” he stumbles over his own words. He can feel his brain melting as the gears turn rapidly in his brain. 

Sakusa looks affronted. “What do you mean when? Since we kissed. For the first time.” He raises a brow as Atsumu continues to stare at him. “In the locker rooms?”

Atsumu just gapes at him. He wishes he could do literally anything else but he can’t. He’s been dating Sakusa Kiyoomi this entire time and didn’t know?!

Sakusa seems to catch on. “Oh my god.” He whispers, covering his mouth with one of his thin hands. He scrambles to get out of Atsumu’s lap, shoving his bony elbows into Atsumu’s sternum. 

Words finally come to him. “Noooo. NO. Wait a damn minute–Ow!” Atsumu tries and fails to wrangle an extraordinarily uncooperative, curly-headed sea urchin back into his lap. Sakusa is mumbling to himself and Atsumu can tell that the tips of his ears are red, even in complete darkness. Atsumu is laughing and he shouldn’t be because he is just so cute and Atsumu is so unbelievably happy. 

“Omi-Omi. Baby.”

“Shut the fuck up.” 

“It’s not a big deal!” Atsumu tries, sitting up to follow Sakusa. 

“Not that–” Sakusa scoffs. “Not that big of a deal?” He asks. 

“It’ll be funny, eventually”

“How did you not know?!” Sakusa cries, “I don’t let anyone touch me. Ever. Suddenly we are making out against the locker rooms and you think it’s just casual?” He looks alarmed for a moment and then wounded. “Have you–oh god. Have you been sleeping with other people?” 

Atsumu chokes. “Wha–”

“Oh my god.” Sakusa sits directly on the forest floor. “Oh god. I think I might actually be sick.” 

“What the fuck? What the fu–NO” He shouts. Atsumu shuffles towards Sakusa. “Omi. Kiyoomi. My Omi-Omi, I have not touched a single hair on another person’s head since bein’ with ya. I swear!” 

He wouldn’t even want to. He’s waited for Sakusa since they were 15 years old. He would have waited even longer but it appears he never needed to. Atsumu swipes a hand through his hair. “Ya really gotta work on yer communication skills, Omi. Jesus. How was I s’posed to know how ya felt if ya don’ tell me?” 

“I suppose that’s true.” Sakusa relents. “How embarrassing.” 

Atsumu laughs and laughs. Eventually Sakusa does too. Though, his laughter is breathy and low while Atsumu’s laughter is always loud and bright. He likes the contrast of them, Omi has always been his opposite in everything, even the physical. He likes them just fine that way. Not everyone gets them and maybe they bicker more than they should, but Atsumu thinks they’re perfect. 

Just like this. 

Suddenly, light floods in between them, swinging back and forth before the sound of boots crunching on the dried leaves rings out. 

“Miya? Sakusa? Is that you?” 

Atsumu can’t make out who’s talking to them before they call out again. “Hey, guys! I found them!” 

A blanket is being wrapped around his shoulders and Atsumu watches as the entire team rushes forward. Bokuto and Hinata are crying and he thinks that Inunaki might be as well. There’s also several forest rangers with industrial flashlights pointed at Atsumu’s makeshift shelter. 

“Boy scouts.” He says weakly, laughing a little. 

They do make it down the mountain and Meian (the one who found them after hearing them laugh) apologized profusely the entire way down. Atsumu gave him shit the entire time, but the truth of it was that he didn’t mind at all. 

He went into the forest without a boyfriend and came back with one. So in his books, it was pretty alright. 

[thislovintime]

Peter Tork, 1967 and 1969. Photos by Nurit Wilde (screenshots from the documentary Laurel Canyon: A Place In Time), and by Henry Diltz. [click to enlarge].

“Peter Tork…..I miss him. He was such a kind and wonderful human being!❤️” - Nurit Wilde, Instagram, June 13, 2021

“Peter was a mensch…such a generous person in every way you can imagine. I miss him.” - Nurit Wilde, Instagram, January 30, 2021

“He was indeed [a gentle soul]. Also very kind, generous and thoughtful. I miss him.” - Nurit Wilde, Instagram, November 10, 2020 (x)

“I lived on Lookout Mountain, and then I lived to Tork’s house. Peter was like my best friend. I was always taking pictures of Peter. I took more pictures of him than anybody else. So good — a mensch, as they say.” - Nurit Wilde, Laurel Canyon: A Place In Time

“I think I was a sort of Gatsby [during the Monkee years]. I was isolated and did not have a continuing sense of community. I'd have a moment of friendship here or there, a moment of sharing, but I didn't believe that was the main body of my life. I didn't know who my friends were, and anytime somebody asked me for a favor I wrote them off as a hang-around. And I wasn't able to ask people for favors, because I was supposed to have all that it took to keep myself together, because I had the money. At the same time, by giving the money away, I thought I was returning something to the community. I didn't see myself as apologizing, which is how I see myself now. But I had all this money, and I tried to make amends to the world by throwing it at people. And, essentially, what that did was to isolate me all the more.” - Peter Tork, When The Music Mattered (1984)

“Poor Peter Tork of the Monkees, he was so sweet. We stayed with him part of the time, and the Digger boys just about emptied his house. I really regret their doing that.” - Jeff Kisseloff, Generation on Fire (2007)

“Peter Tork of the Monkees generously offered a place to say while Elsa and the others worked the town. ‘He was sweet,’ says Elsa with some chagrin, ‘and I felt bad because the [Digger] boys ripped him off for everything that was liftable.’” - Sleeping Where I Fall: A Chronicle (1999)

“He has an almost naive belief in the basic goodness of his fellow man (a trait which hasn’t changed one iota through the years), and he thinks there is hope for everyone. […] Most of the people who live with him (there are seven now) have known Peter for years. Since money has no value to him, he lavishes his money on his friends. Peter has spent thousands of dollars just helping, with no thought of getting repaid. (That much has changed — a few years ago Peter couldn’t give much more than a sympathetic ear.) [...] With all those people living with Peter now, he has very little privacy, but apparently it isn’t missed. Everyone at the house is working and ‘doing their thing,’ and the house is a simple, unpretentious, very lived-on home. As one person living there puts it[,] ‘It’s a happy, productive household, so full of love you can’t quite believe it.’” - Judy Sims, Disc and Music Echo, May 11, 1968 (x)

“I did make a pretty fair amount of money with the Monkees. Not much by today’s standards, but a pretty fair amount. But I let it all go because I didn’t understand value then. I didn’t understand value in myself. What I’ve learned since then is you can’t handle money well if you don’t have an appropriate sense of self-value.” - Peter Tork, Toxic Fame: Celebrities Speak on Stardom (1996)

“[J]ust everybody tried to take advantage of the Monkees and then turned their backs when they began to slip: I saw Peter do a real lot of things for Steve Stills but there was a time when Peter wasn’t allowed on Stills’ property when the Rolling Stones were visiting. Poor Peter, he bought David Crosby a boat and stuff but they all bled him dry with peace signs and bullshit.” - Lynne Randell, quoted in Monkeemania: The True Story of The Monkees (1997)

Q: “How did you manage to keep sane within that madness?” Peter Tork: “I either didn’t notice, I didn’t care, or I didn’t permit it. It was that easy, generally. I only know in retrospect how badly I was ripped off.” Q: “Do you mean financially?” PT: “Largely financially. I let it happen to myself. You know what they say about a fool and his money.” - Goldmine, 1982 (x)

“[Peter had] always found the fame hard to handle. ‘I gave a lot of my money away when I was younger – just left it in bowls around the house and people would help themselves to handfuls of it,’ he says. ‘I wasn’t thinking too clearly at the time and it might have been my low self-esteem, thinking that I didn't deserve to keep the money, but it wasn’t really that bright, was it?’ he laughs. ‘I mean, there’s nothing wrong with giving money away to people, but give it where you can do some good.’” - Daily Mail, August 14, 2015

[roobylavender]

you're one of the few people i've seen who see how zuko's arc should have gone post-canon. 'denied the catharsis of punishment' as you said. do you have any ideas for how the gaang would have progressed after the war, i'd really like your perspective on this, it's one of my favourite shows but the shipping is over-focused on in some circles at the cost of character integrity so content that gets into why i like atla so much to begin with is hard to come by

as a whole i wish post canon was more reparations focused. the fact that the fire nation remained intact allowed the gaang to near seamlessly progress into this "everyone works together for a better future except for a few fringe groups we have to deal with in the comics" stasis and it's like. is that actually realistic. probably not. the fire nation spent the last century subjugating and eradicating other peoples at leisure and the fact that a few people like zuko and iroh and jeong jeong were able to recognize the cruelty of that doesn't mean the millions of people living in the fire nation were able to as well. i know there's a comic arc with mai's parents leading a faction resistant to the new status quo but even that grossly underscores the extent to which the fire nation was prospering under a guise of purportedly well-deserved superiority. this is a widespread ideology that sustained an entire nation and its desire to colonize. the only way anything was going to realistically change was by literally abolishing the monarchy, eradicating the structure, etc. and personally i believe zuko would have been more than willing to participate in that! i do not believe he had an iota of desire to lead the fire nation let alone to allow it to continue to prosper given everything he went through and understood about its functions. the ending is also ironic wrt aang bc while i'm sure the writers believed it acted as an extension of aang's pacifism it didn't align with what he did to ozai at all. aang did not want to kill but he understood ozai was dangerous so long as he had power and so he took it away. one has to wonder why that wouldn't have translated metaphorically to exorcising the fire nation of its power as well. the problem with atla holistically is that this is a show that tried to address a century long response to genocide within the span of a chronological half-year. realistically the war would never have ended with taking down ozai. it would have ended with dismantling the fire nation entirely, and the writers didn't want to deal with that bc it would have portrayed too radical a message for a children's show. it's very pointed to me that katara as potentially one of the most radical gaang members is the one who got to bond with characters like jet and hama only for them to be painted as heretics enthralled with violence over peace. southern raiders is a fantastic episode and it makes a good point about how exacting revenge upon yon rha is pointless bc he's by that point nothing but a pathetic has-been whose death would serve to fulfill nothing. but that's energy katara could be allowed to channel towards fire nation members who are currently in power, and the fact that she's so often lectured for her anger despite the depth of her trauma is very interesting to me. there's people who would use that as fodder to criticize aang but if anything i believe that was as much his character assassination as it was hers and that his righteous anger was downplayed plenty of times as well in service of the show's larger message

[finely-tuned-line]

RP:

Log 219

FTL: FTLR-3 has started moving around. I can confirm that it behaves similarly to a lizard, though nothing especially like a cyan lizard specifically. It's been moving about the chamber, but it hasn't yet made any attempts to break out. It knows that it won't work.

FTL: This type of learning is not something that lizards usually do. They keep going and going, even if it's to their own peril. Though they have learned of typical signs of threat - but that's through cycles of experience and reinforcement. They have also been recorded as able to be tamed, which once again, is heavily reliant on external reinforcement. Learning within a single cycle that attempting to escape is futile without any sort of external source providing reinforcement showcases a level of learning capacity above that of any other sort of Rot - and above that of any other lizard.

FTL: As curious as I am about FTLR-3, I am completely aware of the fact that this makes it highly dangerous - moreso than most other Rots. I would continue to research it, ignoring the danger, but I don't believe that that's possible right now. Unfortunately. I may not value my own life, but interacting with it is not a good idea. Mostly due to the fact that LIFEGIVER's shipment has arrived. FTLR-3 will be eradicated soon. I... I will not interfere.

FTL: I'm highly disappointed in myself that I didn't manage to get more research done, but I do not think there was much research that could be done. My interest in the project has long since faded, and while rationale dictates that that does not matter and I should have continued my study, that would have been fruitless. There were no interesting behaviours from it, and there wasn't much I could have done.

FTL: As for the corrosive substance I was attempting to develop, well. I've succeeded. It would not be effective against Rot though. Or well, against anything at all. The liquid is corrosive, but barely so. I've come to the conclusion that I'm not cut out for chemistry. Thankfully so, as it is dreadfully boring. And now I do not have to continue in my attempts, due to LIFEGIVER's cure being here, as previously mentioned.

FTL: The organisms carrying the chemical have made their way into my structure, which was slightly unpleasant. The feeling of creature crawling around on me is not one I enjoy. I just wish that the creatures get to FTLR-3 as soon as possible, and let me grieve the loss of high potential for research.

FTL: I never did figure out what FTLR-3 truly was. A Rot, of course, but the fact that it doesn't fit into any of the three sub-groups bothers me heavily. I'll leave it as an outlier for now, but a new group shall be created if another Rot similar to FTLR-3 is ever created. Which is highly unlikely.

FTL: That does lead me to remember a train of thought I had earlier on in the cycle. Will FTLR-3 escape the confines of the Great Cycle as other Rots do? I believe that some iota of intelligence is needed in order to be part of the Great Cycle, alongside being mostly organic. That first requirement is what bars all Rots (and while us Iterators definitely do fit the first requirement, the second one is the reason why we are excluded. We may be organic in part, but we still are majority mechanical.), would it do the same for FTLR-3?

FTL: ...Let's hope it does. But the more I think about it, the more I doubt it. While I am unsure about the level of intelligence necessary, I do know that lizards possess it. As established before, FTLR-3 goes beyond that. Well. If this worst-case scenario does happen, then I will know. I'll be on the lookout, just in case it wakes up where it was first created, though I think it's more likely that it would do so in the containment chamber where it's been for the past several cycles.

FTL: What will- ....should I do if that does happen though? I cannot keep relying on LIFEGIVER to continue eradicating it over and over, completely pointlessly. And while I do relish the opportunity to potentially research it more, and with time to do so. It... I cannot release FTLR-3 as I do with my other experiments I no longer need. That would permanently wreck my regions. Nor can I allow it to continue inhabiting that room. As I've stated before, it will find a way out.

FTL: I do not know what to do. If it gets trapped in the Great Cycle, does that mean that it has Karma? If so, is it possible for it to ascend via Void sea? Either way, I have no options. I have no way to ascend it or remove it from the Great Cycle somehow. It'd just have to remain in the containment chamber, growing more and more dangerous by the cycle. I do not want that.

FTL: I do believe that I have no proper way out of this situation if FTLR-3 does happen to be trapped in the Great Cycle alongside most lifeforms. If that is the case - which I am now almost fully convinced it is - then I am most likely doomed to die via Rot. A very volatile one that can and will spread out easily.

FTL: I... I am not going to record the other things I was going to talk about in this log. Apologies to future me (...if you even exist) but I have no time.

FTL: I need to think.

[mdccanon]

Thoughts on this vid?

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=S5Ak5uEcDUQ

I have been thinking about this in terms of fiction as part of something that I want to write about the dissatisfaction with fantasy without revolution.

To put it simply, even when we reach for entertainment, we have become unhappy unless the point of the story is to address the inherent flaws of the society of the story. We are unhappy, even when we fantasize.

But, besides me always interpreting everything through fiction writing, I completely agree and I have two levels that I have to address of this in myself. That I address with two main tenants that I try to follow, that you see me use in my conversations with people here on Tumblr.

Be angry about things you can change. Be ambivalent / humorous about everything else. AKA sleep deprivation is real. Don't stay woke.

As upset as a woke person may feel towards me for saying that, I say that with the full expectation of working to change something. I completely agree that everyone should spend their life addressing some great change. There are a lot of problems in the world. Shit needs to get done. But absolutely everyone is a "single issue voter" with only a handful of things they have an educated opinion and commitment about. To fake an educated opinion causes the stress this young woman is talking about, because you're ruminating on variables you don't fully understand and can't change, and you're doing it out a fear of other woke people calling you insensitive, which is just a double layer of peer pressure stress. Changing the world is already stressful. There is no mental benefit to daily stress that the world is not changed.

2) Unless you plan to pay people, what good are you giving people for converting them to your cause? AKA Unionize Wokeness.

For being affiliated with the labor movement, wokeness is one of the most exploitative causes that I've ever seen.

Let's use this young lady's example of going into the world feeling every opportunity is secretly diminished or against her. Staying woke does not lead to Black folks using Black-owned media and elevating the standards of journalism; it just leads to them being hypersensitive to how CNN reports. Staying woke doesn't lead to Black folks fostering new relationships and championing worldwide hip hop; it just leads to them hyper fixating on the mistakes of hip Hop of the last 30 years with no real understanding of how anyone else's using it. Let's sprinkle a little bit of dangerously manic manifest destiny on these minds. I try as hard as I can to be sympathetic and say "I recognize that you were in pain. But what would you like to do to get better?" And the woke mentality says that the best thing that you can do is to continue to mourn the pain. How?

So, look at every example common on my blog:

People upset about MCU castings (something neither I nor they have control over) want me to change my opinion on the casting (seeking my validation, as if I matter) but aren't willing to put in ANY work to introduce me to the alternative actors and actresses they suggest because their priority is to feel "heard" by a random stranger on the Internet than to express a single iota of agency. Also, they have no real suggestions about Wanda's storylines or opinions about her position in the story, either the Infinity Saga or Multiverse Saga, because this issue matters to them because it's a chance to Be Woke about something and not because of any interest in fantasy writing, movie making, or comic books.

These people never knew anything about Romani filmmaking or actors and I would think that that would be more insulting to pretend you know them for clout then to just be unaware. And these people never wanted to learn anything because that would be within their control. They don't want agency, they want to feel Woke by not having control.

During the Johnny Depp v Amber Heard case, Amber Heard supporters would try to diminish my critical questions about the testimonies during the trial because they 1) don't actually watch the trial of the defendant they are supporting, 2) don't actually know the full outline of her allegations against her ex-husband, 3) don't care about how the legal system works, and 4) are willing to ignore things Amber Heard said and did if it interfered with their narrative. And tried to make a court case about defamation of character in journalism about Tweets from fans. Because the issue matter to them because they wanted to stay Woke about women who accuse men of domestic abuse and not because of any actual interest in that particular woman and that particular accusation. Have any conversation with any Amber Heard supporter who kept asking me "Where did you hear that from?" when I quoted the literal trial.

It is more insulting to the issue of domestic abuse to support a person who is obviously faking their accusations, and whenever I would talk to these people about real volunteering in domestic abuse, that's not something they wanted to do because that would be within their control. They don't want agency. They want to feel Woke by having no control.

As a person who suffers from anxiety, I know that it is very tempting to feel that the silver lining of it is that you are always ready for problems. But being anxious, ruminating over problems, is not the same thing as being ready for them. If it was, anxiety would not be a mental disorder. Order to Stay Woke you must approach it from a perspective of assuming you have no control. The average person is not a community organizer working shoulder to shoulder with a national icon on a large civil rights issue. For THAT person, Staying Woke may be a healthy layer of vigilance as they work tirelessly (and dodge death threats and assassination attempts). You are not James Baldwin. If you want James Baldwin's mentality, live his life.

But I've actually stopped and asked why James Baldwin gets away with saying "I don't have a dream job; I never dreamt of labor." when his life was sustained doing fulfilling work that he enjoyed and helped others... And no one has yet to have an answer to that. He just sounded so damn Woke sayin' it.

[batteredwarriorstillstanding]

Alright, so listen up, Smart-Ass...first of all, entertaining as all of the hyperbolic comparisons to the impossibly pure, sexually untouched, puritanical sect (does that really even exist on this continent) and the even more hysterical (not to mention infinitely more accurate of the two. Not accurate....just closer than "saint-like," virtuous man of God) clueless middle aged eunuch, whose inexperience can be attributed to a level of naivete and cluelessness almost impossible to comprehend for the typical....correct chromosome count possessing reader, who does not have a difficult decision when decidong which character on Darwin's human evolutionary chart they most identify...I hesitate to make this concession....first of all because it's a concession...in THIS forum, on THIS topic nonetheless. Also, seemingly granting legitimacy to the oft-distorted, ALWAYS spiked with shameful dishonesty "revelations" about me that I must have wasted 10000 words refuting to people who either didn't consider it an issue (HOOOW!!??lol) needed no refutation in the first place, much less the detailed version I felt compelled to vomit, or were adversaries, either for personal, or situational reasons who were not open to reversing themselves, and, in fact, very often found new falsehoods to create within corrected info provided. The truth is that while every claim I made during this foray (about 14 months long, probably averaging 2-3 sometimes ridiculously long posts over 4 blogs-or 5....something like that. 6 possible too...honestly am not sure) I have never been wilfully dishonest. Made a couple of honest mistakes that were corrected to the best of my ability, and utilized my normal copious allotment of sarcasm, fesiciousness (that is a word, I think....do not have a CLUE how to spell it: Its definition would be " what people often mistake for sarcasm. Making a statement opposite universally accepted truth for effect i.e. "That Barry Manilow is one bad motherfucker.") and I certainly tiptoes around some uh....less than gentlemanly things said and done in the past, but I was very careful to avoid outright lying....and, I addressed a few things I ABSOLUTELY would have seen as a guckin' GOLDEN opportunity to alter fate in my favor with the help of a little dishonesty. I passed those up. You see kids, your integrity, for ANY positive outcome, ANY dodging of consequence, ANY dollar amount....is simply nit worth compromising a single iota. Take it from Me." Lol...just kidding...

But, I did not wish to exacerbate a, perhaps....justifiably imperfect, reputation in that area....particularly after an honest mistake earky on had reasonably light hearted (thank gid) accusation of "bullshit con artist" leveled at me from a....less than ideal source. By that, I mean the worst possible. Luckily,it worked itself out and was explained (fucking 1 or 3 months ago when it didn't fucking matter) but; I was and remain absolutely grateful (what the fuck ever) So, continuing our course on the Honesty Express, it seems our next stop is Honest Self Appraisal.....and, after adding this tool of the Saints to our new repertoire, we realize that just because we can explain aspects of our self, abilities, weaknesses, past mistakes, etc in a fashion that is both thorough AND honest....it behooves us to include certain data we deem both not accurately indicative of our true selves and easily buried in a generalized admission of ADHD diagnoses, occasional social anxiety, and having occasionally encountered the need for "anger management" assistance. Only with skilled and persistent prying would I reveal that "ADHD diagnoses" came after failing English (easily my best subject because formatting fictional short stories....which essentially meant "numbering the pages" was too difficult and I was embarassed to turn shit in because I was made fun of the first time) "social anxiety" meant COMPLETE isolation for 3 to 6 days, often in darkness, away from even family, and "anger management" could be translate into "it's nice so many of our family members are attorneys." So, I will make an admission here, in the interest of good will, self depreciation, and frankly...fairness and accuracy before I respond to the rest of this shit, uh, I mean "argumentative explanation for"....fuck. what was it for. I will double check. I was right, though. That is whatcha want to remember. After doing this, I will explain why, though she has every right to her opinion...it's....questionable (like that word? I really mean something far more dismissive and judgemental, but....) oh sorry....anyway, (to be cont.)

[dear-mrs-otome]

Why Silvio does that? Because we know that he really does love Emma. Why push her away? That was the first time they kissed?

I've been thinking about this myself for a long while now, Nonny, because it is so baffling almost. I think I've parsed out at least what I consider to be the 'why'…but let me be very clear, none of my ramblings below condone his actions whatsoever. What he did to Emma was wrong, and no amount of armchair psychoanalyzing could or should excuse his behavior.

That said, if you're interested in the essay and my opinions, read on…

There's three influences on Silvio's action in this scene, I believe, and they all eminate from and manifest themselves in different but related ways.

Lack of knowledge/experience

Lack of tools

Lack of confidence

Let's tackle the biggest problem, #1, first. Fundamentally, Silvio is unacquainted with love - it's apparent from what he's said and what we've seen that he hasn't had a shred of romantic or familial affection in his life. He doesn't know how to recognize it, he doesn't know how to acknowledge it, and he doesn't know what to do with it. Like you said Nonny, the scene is all the more shocking because it's clear to anyone reading the story that at this point, Silvio is absolutely, 100%, head over heels in love with Emma. It's painfully obvious to everyone else around them from the way he hoards all of her time, the efforts and lengths he goes to on her behalf, and his obvious concern for her…but he's unable to articulate what his feelings for her are, and continues to attribute them to his original purpose of hassling Rio.

In a similar vein, he has no means of expressing his feelings even if he were to acknowledge them. Silvio's a man of interesting dichotomy - I would go so far as to say that's one of his defining characteristics almost, that he can encompass polar opposites within him almost simultaneously. He both loves and hates his brother Rio. He can be incredibly blunt and rude on one hand, and have impeccable clothing and mannerisms on the other. He can negotiate a deal with uncanny skill, but also brute forces his way through problems, doors, and relationships without an iota of finesse. A confident man but cripplingly shy and anxious as well. He knows of only two ways to get the things he wants, as even he himself says - to buy it, or to take it.

What he wants is Emma. But none of the methods he knows how to obtain what he desires with are or should be applicable to a person, let alone someone you love. He tries both of them in this scene, and they both blow up in his face spectacularly, because he doesn't know how to ask for something that should only be freely given.

Both the first and the second problems snowball down and crash into the third, exacerbating it. In most areas of his life, Silvio is incredibly confident and self-assured. But when it comes to interpersonal relationships or emotions, it's clear that he is horribly anxious and unsure of how to handle either. He knows he's handsome, has money and intellect, but doubts his charisma or that anyone would ever find him good or charming or appealing for who he is inside. He's convinced that Emma finding out the bad things he's done will sour her completely on him, that much seems obvious from how badly he seemed to not want her to find out and how shook he looked when he realized she had. He thinks that he has no redeeming qualities that would outweigh those sins (at least that she would be interested in) and to spare himself the pain of having to confront that he doubles down defiantly on the bad…and is 'rewarded' when she does exactly what he assumed, and says her sentiments for him in the past tense. A self-fulfilling prophecy at its finest.

Better to wreck everything while in control than let her see his honest feelings and have the 'upper hand'- because I suspect those honest feelings have been used to belittle and control him his entire life.

We find evidence later in a tiny flashback for how much her calling him a beast must have wounded him (as it should) when he recalls a time that Rio had accused him of being not even human…and how vehemently he didn't want to be a beast even then. I think he was so caught up in his own pain there for a moment he didn't realize how far over the line he had crossed, until Emma forced him to see it.

So. Our sequence of events is thus, in my opinion:

Silvio dreads Emma discovering how much of a dick he was in the past, because he doesn't value himself. Said fear comes true, and when she questions him on it, he defiantly confirms her version of things rather than being honest and admitting his envy of Rio and how it stems from his own lack of love. Rather than risk being vulnerable and owning up to his own feelings for her, because he's unable and unwilling to take that chance. This only seems to bolster his assumptions when she takes this VERY poorly, and in a desperate bid to retain what he wants, he employs questionable tactics that I think a part of him knows would never work - but if she's to leave or hate him already, what does he have to lose by trying? Or by making it a surety and putting an end to things that won't leave him questioning the 'what ifs'.

And yes, to answer your final question - that was the first time they had kissed.

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

IOTA Reviews: Wishmaker

Goddamn it... 

It's bad enough Astruc tastelessly axed Lukanette, but now he just had to show up to give a sarcastic eulogy at the funeral.

Let's get into the fourteenth (chronologically the eighteenth) episode of Miraculous Ladybug's fourth season: Wishmaker

Right out of the gate, we get a “Chloe bad” joke with her insulting Marinette for being poor or whatever as she hands out flyers for an upcoming career fair. Chloe doesn't have much of a role in the episode, but she will be important towards the end, trust me. We also get a funny “Marinette stares lovingly at Adrien” joke while she sees him, so it's good the writers are at least trying to get their strange habits out of their systems now instead of later.

While reading over the flyer in his room, Adrien ponders a possible career as he doesn't want to keep being a model.

(The episode came out in English first, so I'm just going to be using quotes instead of screenshots of subbed scenes for this review)

Plagg: Don't you wanna continue to model?

Adrien: I don't think so, Plagg. I'm doing it now because my father asked me to. But now I realize I don't know what I'd want to do. I've never asked myself that question.

This is a really interesting dilemma for Adrien. Unlike other episodes that just have him feel sad for entirely superfluous reasons like Ladybug turning him down or generally moping about his mom, it feels like something you can really understand. He genuinely isn't sure what he wants to do with his life because he's had everything chosen for him before. I also like the use of the English dub saying Adrien modeled because his father asked him to, as if he couldn't actually say no. I also like how Adrien is still starting to lose faith in Ladybug for giving out Miraculous to everyone, which makes even more sense after his view of her was shaken in the previous episode chronologically, “Rocketear”. I also like how Plagg suggests ideas for a career for Adrien, like the two of them opening up a cheese shop together, which shows how Plagg cares for Adrien and wants what's best for him, ultimately highlighting how healthy their relationship is. He's almost like a big brother who gives advice to Adrien, even if it isn't the most sound advice at times.

On the other hand, Marinette already knows what she wants to do with her life, but the Kwamis start to argue over what she actually means by it by saying they know what she wants to do, a painfully accurate metaphor for the writers dictating Marinette's actions no matter how inconsistent they are.

Pollen: What's a career, dear Guardian?

Marinette: Oh. Well, it's... your job! Something really important that you do and gives meaning to your life!

Roaar: Oh! So, your job is being the Guardian of the Miraculous!

Mullo: Of course not! It's being a student!

Xuppu: Not at all! It's making presents for Adrien!

Marinette:Well...

Longg: She said “something important”, like when she crafted the big doll house to hide the Miracle Box!

Wayzz: Or when she designed the alarm for this room! What a masterpiece!

Marinette: Sure, I love crafting but—

Ziggy: You guys don't get it! What gives meaning to her life is to be in love with Adrien, or Luka, that's her job!

Fluff: Luka's the one with the guitar, right?

Kaalki: Her real career is being Ladybug and carve her name in history by her glorious deeds, of course!

Of course, their bickering somehow makes Marinette realize she isn't sure what she wants to do in the future after all.

We then cut to a reality show hosted by TV personality, Alec Cataldi. He's generally an asshole to the people on the shows he hosts and takes pleasure in humiliating or just being a dick to them, making you wonder how he still gets work with that attitude. Basically, he's the Alec Baldwin of the Miraculous Ladybug universe. The current show he's hosting is one where he roasts people for their jobs, making Andre a target by pointing how counterproductive his “business” is.

Alec: Here's a perfect example: Andre, the Ice Cream Maker, the ice cream man that is never around! Let me remind you how this goes: Andre doesn't have a shop, no one knows where he is, it takes forever to find him, and he gets to pick a flavor of your ice cream! You've gotta be kidding, Andre! Give me one reason why I should bother to chase after you when I could get my choice of ice cream in any corner supermarket!

Andre: Well, people don't just come for ice cream when they find me. They come to share their love and experience of magical moments! A supermarket cannot do what I do! I am a creator of magical moments!

Alec: “Creator of magical moments?” You've gotta be kidding!

I'm pretty sure that's what a lot of people thought of Andre when they first saw “Glaciator”. The idea behind Andre is that he chooses ice cream for you representing something about yourself, so he gives Alec a scoop of lime to represent his sour exterior and chocolate cinnamon to represent the dreams he still has within. Alec flinches a little at the ice cream, presumably because of how terrible of a combination that is, and decides to go to commercial to think.

Marinette talks to Andre about what he does, and he explains he used to be an office worker, with the only highlight of his days being making ice cream for himself after work. It eventually inspired him to quit his job and start making ice cream for everyone. It's a nice backstory, and I think a lot of people watching who are struggling to think about their future can relate to this like with the earlier scene with Adrien. It's also a nice touch for the flashbacks to reveal Andre has served ice cream to some of France's most famous couples.

(Jean Coutau and Jean Marais)

(Serge Gainsbourg and Jane Birkin)

(Marion Cotillard and Guillaume Canet)

Granted, I'm wondering how old Andre is to have even met some of these people given Jean Cocteau died in 1963, but seeing how Master Fu is 186, I'm guessing the Miraculous Ladybug universe just has really good healthcare. Either that, or the people in this universe take Jay Kordich's diet very seriously.

Andre gives some ice cream to Marinette, who is soon joined by her ex-boyfriend who she never loved according to the writers. Actually, judging from her face when Luka talks about the very first guitar he made, the writers made another 180 regarding Marinette's feelings for Luka.

Of course, because the show wants to remind the audience Alec still exists, he makes fun of Luka for taking two years to perfect the delicate craftsmanship it takes to sculpt any instrument when you can just download an app on your phone. Your inner boomer is showing, writers, even if you were born after the time period for that generation. Luka retorts with some vague philosophical line he's known for that's one of the reasons why people are so mixed on him as a character

Luka: Musical instruments fill the space and space fills the instruments. No phone in the world will ever be able to do that.

Despite it being incredibly confusing, it gets to Alec, causing him to run off in tears. Luka and Marinette continue to talk, but it turns out that's Adrien decided to sit down nearby because of course he did. Though, like the last scene, it's a pretty interesting one as the three discuss what they want to do with their lives. There's also a really nice visual of a blimp with an ad Adrien was in passing by while Adrien talks about his father dictating his life, a really nice symbol. Of course, the scene is somewhat ruined by Luka suddenly deciding to be an Adrienette shipper.

Luka: You two will eventually find what's already in front of you, but you can't hear it clearly. Just let the melody flow.

He's referring to their uncertainty of their futures, but earlier on, Luka wanted to help Marinette be honest with her feelings about Adrien, and even before that, Andre was saying that Marinette and Luka didn't have to be in love to enjoy his magic ice cream. It's here when I realized this episode is subtly trying to end any chances of Lukanette still happening with so many little details. Right when the two spend time together, that's when they decided to help Adrien who showed up for no reason, preventing them from potentially coming to terms with their feelings for each other or at the very least discuss how hard it is to be friends with their history. And things only get more frustrating towards the end, where you'd swear someone decided to smother Lukanette with a pillow in its sleep.

Back to Alec, he's roasting a wig salesman (does he even have permission to film any of these people?) for his job, but as soon as the salesman puts a wig on him, Alec immediately gives us his life story.

Alec: When I was a kid, I used to have long hair, but everyone made fun of me. That's why I shaved it all off. I've been making the wrong choices my whole life. My TV shows are nothing personal. I make fun of people when they make fun of me when I was a kid. (Starts to tear up) I should've been the person I always wanted to be, trying to change the world instead of mocking it! (Falls on his knees) I've wasted my life!

I didn't paraphrase this at all. This is seriously what happened. He goes from mocking everyone he meets, to slightly doubting himself after seeing an ice cream vendor and a young musician, and then he starts having an existential crisis about his tragic backstory. It's not a bad idea, but if there was some more buildup in previous episodes, I'd understand. But this goes from confusing to straight out insulting towards the end. I'll get to that later on.

Shadowmoth notices Alec's emotions and akumatizes him into Wishmaker through his microphone.

Wishmaker has a pretty cool design. The grey skin color coupled with the mostly black outfit really highlights Alec's broken heart, and he looks pretty sinister. His powers... leave a lot to be desired.  Like the name states, Wishmaker has the power to make everyone's childhood dreams come true, like this one guy's dream is to be Santa Claus, so he transforms into Saint Nick without any hitch. Wouldn't it make more sense if Wishmaker twisted the dreams of his victims like a genie and made them miserable while they ironically lived out their fantasies by twisting around their words? Instead, all of his “victims” seem pretty happy, which doesn't really do much to make him a threat in my opinion.

So the aforementioned Santa starts dropping presents like bombs near Marinette, Adrien, and Luka, and they're separated by a giant robot. Marinette quickly transforms into Ladybug, and gets Luka to safety, though as soon as she leaves, Luka goes to check on where he told Marinette to stay for safety, and doesn't see her there. Instead, he sees his deadbeat father (transformed into a crocodile) drowning and goes to save him.

Ladybug meets up with Cat Noir (who transformed off-screen) and the two easily incapacitate the robot before engaging Wishmaker, avoiding his blasts. Apparently, they'll get their secret identities revealed if they get hit, so Ladybug goes to get Luka to help out as Viperion while Cat Noir holds off Wishmaker. Ladybug goes to get Luka, leading to the funniest joke in the episode.

She gives Luka the Snake Miraculous and he transforms into Viperion, immediately activating his Second Chance. For newcomers, Second Chance allows the user to set a point in time when activating it and if something goes wrong, they can go back to that checkpoint in up to five minutes. Ladybug also summons her Lucky Charm, a stuffed dinosaur toy.

Back with Cat Noir, as he engages Wishmaker, the Akuma starts to tempt him with the idea of living out his childhood dream, because he genuinely doesn't remember his. As Shadowmoth orders Wishmaker to use his powers on Cat Noir, Ladybug and Viperion show up, but in the chaos of the fight, Ladybug gets hit by Wishmaker, revealing her childhood dream as the “Knitting Fairy”, and exposes her identity to Viperion, who uses Second Chance to undo the timeline.

In the new timeline, Cat Noir's vulnerability gets to him, so he willingly lets himself get his by Wishmaker, not only exposing his identity as Adrien, but tragically reveals his childhood dream, to be whatever his parents wanted him to be. I feel like this works a lot better than some of the other moments where Cat Noir defied orders or screwed around on the battlefield because it's clearly framed as a moment of weakness on his part, and it was naturally built up over the course of the episode. The reveal of Adrien's childhood dream is a real gut punch too, as it shows just how much Adrien's life has been controlled by his family.

In the third timeline, Viperon deflects Wishmaker's blast meant for Cat Noir and redirects it toward a man whose childhood dream was to become a giant stuffed dinosaur. The stuffed dinosaur in question goes to give Wishmaker a hug, restraining him long enough for Ladybug to steal for Cat Noir to cataclysm (It's a microphone, how hard is it to break???) before she de-evilizes the Akuma. Ladybug uses Miraculous Ladybug to force everyone to stop living out their childhood dreams, she gives Alec a Magical Charm, and Luka decides not to tell Ladybug he knows both her and Cat Noir's secret identities. Why did Ladybug expect Luka not to know her identity when the whole reason she recruited him was to make sure nobody else found out her identity?

Now, while it isn't outright said, it's hinted at that now that Luka knows Marinette is Ladybug and Adrien is Cat Noir, judging from his dejected look after finding out the latter, he may be giving up on all attempts at the idea of getting back together with Marinette, and may or may not start shipping the Love Square now, just like how Kagami decided to ship Adrienette in “Mr. Pigeon 72”. I'm not saying the idea of Luka knowing someone's identity is bad, but it feels like this only happened specifically to stop him from having feelings for Marinette because now he knows Adrien loves her alter ego, and vice versa. Maybe it'll be touched upon in a later episode, but this was just a dick move by the writers in terms of ending all chances of Lukanette like this in order to ensure the Love Square has absolutely no competition.

So the episode ends with Marinette and Adrien deciding to focus on their futures while Alec starts a new show where he helps people live out their childhood dreams, albeit dressed like Style Queen for some reason.

Eh, he still picked a pretty cool Akuma to dress up as in my opinion. A lot of people have viewed this ending as evidence Alec is a drag queen with how he dressed up, coupled with the fact that he said something that was very similar to famous drag queen RuPaul.

Alec: And now, we're gonna love one another, starting with everyone loving themselves! Because how are you gonna love other people if you don't love yourself?

Though Astruc, being Astruc, once again decided to be vague when asked about the subject on Twitter, though at least the subtext is better than when he said he didn't make Juleka and Rose girlfriends because of censors while making it seem like a noble act.

Overall, this was a really good episode, though there were some underlying issues that really kept me from actually liking it. For the most part, it had some good drama with the main character, a rare scene where Marinette didn't stammer around Adrien, a creative (albeit flawed) Akuma with some good action, and an interesting idea with Luka knowing everything about the Love Square now.

There are just two big problems that really got to me about this episode. Let's get the obvious one out of the way, Luka. Honestly, he really didn't need to be in the episode. Sure, he gave some sound advice to Marinette and Adrien about their careers, but it felt kind of strange to see someone their age talking to them about their future when Andre, someone who actually had experience struggling to figure out what he wanted to do with his life, was pushed to the side. And like I said earlier, I think the only reason Luka found out about Marinette and Adrien's identities was to discourage him from thinking about getting back together with Marinette. After all, now that he realizes how “made for each other” they are, he can't stand in the way of the Love Square.

The problem is that in the context of the episode, we don't really see what made him see things that way. At least in “Mr. Pigeon 72”, Kagami consistently viewed Marinette's attempts to get her and Adrien back together as a subconscious desire to be with Adrien. It was dumb with how she decided to go to Team Adrienette at the end of the episode, but it was something. I'm glad the episode didn't force in too many Love Square shenanigans, but I think more should have been done to contextualize Luka's feelings towards the reveal. I get the writers wanted to make sure Lukanette had no chance of coming back, but this just feels rushed.

And then there's Alec's redemption arc. While it's not a bad idea in concept, the problem is that it flies in the fact of a recurring theme this season, that being redemption. Because, here's the funny thing: Alec blatantly said he became an asshole TV personality because of his history of bullying, and decided to retaliate as a result, but he eventually saw the error of his ways and turned over a new leaf. For long time readers of this blog, I apologize for bringing this up yet again, but what exactly makes this different from everything Astruc said about Chloe? You know, when he said that you make your formative choices when you're fourteen? Just like how Alec decided to become a reality TV host making fun of people after a troubling experience from when he was a kid?

Let's say that I agree with Astruc's views about Chloe. How is Alec different from what Astruc's said about Chloe for almost two years at this point? What makes Chloe, someone who was the victim of a troubled childhood who never got help, an irredeemable monster while Alec, someone who also had a troubled childhood and had even more time to get help while never getting any, capable of change? I thought he Alec made a formative choice when he was young and stuck with it, just like how Chloe started to fully develop at the age of fourteen. I mean, Astruc, you yourself said that Chloe's troubled childhood “was no excuse to treat people like shit”, according to you.

I'm just saying, dude, if Chloe can't be redeemed because of the stuff you yourself said, then that shouldn't apply to Alec either. When you really think about it, it's almost like Astruc either made up a bunch of excuses to not redeem Chloe, or he's a massive hypocrite for going back on his word. You can't really justify this kind of hypocrisy relating to Alec's redemption when you remember just how much of a hardass Astruc was when explaining why redemption was impossible for Chloe.

This coupled with the treatment of Luka really drags this episode from really good to blatantly insulting to certain viewers. Then again, these two choices just got to me personally. I feel like if those two things weren't there, things could have made this episode a lot better for me personally. I can see why a lot of people in the fandom still like this episode, but I'm honestly not a fan of it.

[xhisokas-harleyx]

Your Hisoka headcanons were so good😭 and i completely agree with all of them- I wanted request something, u can ignore if u want. 🏃

I am just thinking of a scenario where Hisoka got hurt, by someone who 'cheated' in the fight maybe, and his first instinct was to go to his 'friend's place. And Reader helps him without hesitation, they're even worried and stuff. And he is just like "are they just so naive or dumb? Kind? What do they get from this? And tf is this feeling in my chest? A poison maybe-" Maybe hcs? Or an oneshot? Whatever you like to do. Have a good day or night!:)💛 damn i wrote too much lol sorry

This warms my heart. Thank you SO MUCH for your support!!! And no, you did not write too much! I love having my ego stroked ;) 😂 seriously tho I love hearing from you guys!

I love this prompt. I hope that I was able to bring this to life for you, please feel free to request more!

To be honest, I’m not really happy with how this turned out, but I haven’t written in a long time and feel really rusty. I may rewrite it at some point, because I thought of a different way this could also go! At any rate, I hope you enjoy it.

Word Count: 2880 (yeh, it’s a long one :o)

A little song inspiration I had:

As The World Caves In: Matt Maltese

Hisoka x Reader One-Shot: The Man Beneath the Monster

...

Well... this wasn't supposed to happen.

Currently, the jester of everyone's nightmares lay on the ground, golden eyes staring up at the dull night sky while shrapnel and debris etched patterns into his back, remnants of the attack he'd just barely survived. Hisoka didn't normally have much of a problem mowing through his opponents- but then again, they usually didn't possess the ability to play with their enemy's mind. It was insanely unfair, the way he'd been attacked, and while it had been an interesting battle to say the least, Hisoka had barely pulled through.

Admittedly, he was invigorated by the feeling of almost being beaten- save for the searing pain that inched its way through every nerve in his body. Hisoka wasn't usually so affected by pain in general- in fact, more often than not, it gave him a certain indescribable gratification. He tended to brush off the feeling of most wounds he obtained during battle, distracting himself with shuffling his cards or fantasizing about the next battle he'd be facing. Only this time, if he didn't get help, he wasn’t sure there would BE another battle.

Hisoka strained himself to sit up, and looked down at his body, analyzing just how much damage he'd sustained. A deep gash opened up his chest, revealing glimpses of the muscular content underneath, and it was oozing a lot of blood. His arms and legs were burned, and some of the skin was a little charred, which smelled just lovely against the night breeze.

This is going to be difficult to cover with Texture Surprise... he thought, forcing himself a bit angrily to his feet, when he heard the cracking of the joints in his left ankle, indications of a break. He needed medical attention, badly. His gash wasn't going to heal itself, and he would bleed to death within hours if it didn’t get bandaged.

But where could he go? Hospitals wouldn't dare take him- even though he was a hunter, most people wouldn't be caught within miles of him, let alone would provide him any remedy. In fact, most people thought the world would be better off if he were dead anyway.

Maybe they were right.

He chuckled a little at the thought, but as he tried to brush those creeping inner fears off, he soon realized that his normal detached approach wasn't going to work this time. Already, his legs were getting weaker, and his vision was getting a little darker by the second. In that moment of weakness, when he felt the most vulnerable, the magician was puzzled by the singular thought that came to his mind.

Y/N.

She was a girl he’d encountered more than a few times in his travels; not by accident, but through carefully orchestrated meetings he initiated himself. She was strong in his eyes, which was not a compliment that he offered freely, especially to someone who didn’t regularly seek out altercations to smash their enemies. She was strong in a different way- not because of her nen or battle tactics- but because of her resolve. He found it intriguing that she didn’t run at the sight of him (even when he popped up behind her in the park), and he liked that she wasn't afraid to tell him exactly where he could shove his cards, if warranted. Y/N was appealing to him in an indescribable way that made him continue to think up excuses to meet her ‘randomly’- but he could never put his finger on what it was that made her unique. However, through brief conversations and what he considered to be highlights of his travels, he’d gotten to know her only a little, but he hardly had enough contact with her to call her a ‘friend’.

It wasn't like she had any special sort of healing nen. She probably couldn't help him anyway. But if he did bleed out, and his last thought had to be of something...l it might as well be of her.

The pink-haired clown looked to the city up ahead in the distance- he was close to her house already. It didn't take him long to get there; Y/N lived on the outskirts of town in a small place away from most other homes.

It was a place he knew well, although he'd never been inside. He'd spent more than a few long nights watching the residence from the rooftop of a distant neighboring home as he denied his human emotions. He often watched her pack groceries, or try to figure out why her porch light wasn't working (which he certainly had nothing to do with), or watch TV on the couch all alone.

Hisoka quite liked those stupid romantic comedies that played late at night on the local channel. His only opportunity to watch them was through her window- and in his mind, he was sure that she left the subtitles on because she can somehow sense his presence. She usually fell asleep watching those, and missed the part where the hero gets the girl. He always watched that part with particular interest, but he can't figure out what makes the protagonists so special to each other. If there was a feeling that caused them to sacrifice so much for one another… he sure didn’t know what it could be.

But he's not a hero, so why would he know what that feels like?

As Hisoka reached her door and lifted his hand to the doorknob, not bothering to knock, a pang of what could only be anxiety ripped through him. It was well past 2 AM, and he knew she had things to do early in the morning. Their previous encounters had been abnormal, to say the least, complete with him teasing her and being a douchebag. He's been nothing but an annoyance to Y/N, so why would she help him?

As soon as he was about to pull his hand away, the door swung open, revealing a disheveled looking y/n in its place. Hisoka was bent over in pain, holding his chest, but as she startled him a little, he straightened up and put on his mask, acting complacent and confident. He wanted to say something smart and witty like he always does- that always helped to bat the pain away. But his lips wouldn't move- his tongue wouldn't function as he stared at her, unable to reach out in a way that normal humans seem to find so easy.

He felt frozen in that moment. He was normally so deliberately irreverent, but seeing the look on her face made his blood run cold.

Don’t let her see this weakness. It was a plea to himself.

But Hisoka had no choice. He was broken, and he needed her to fix him. He wasn’t used to depending on someone else to save his life, but now his life rested in the hands of someone who most likely despised him.

"...Hisoka." Y/N breathed, her eyes widening as she placed a hand over her open mouth. Only seconds passed before her delicate hands were pulling him inside the door without hesitation. She didn't bother to ask what happened, what kind of trouble he'd gotten into, or whether she would also be in danger. Instead, she sat him down on the couch, laying a pillow under his head for comfort, which he annoyingly refused to use until he absolutely couldn’t hold his head up any longer.

Hisoka was a bit dazed from the loss of blood, and the crimson river was flowing all over y/n's lightly colored couch. He was puzzled by the swiftness of her reaction, and he watched tepidly as she shuffled frantically through the drawers in the bathroom for something to heal him. Though he was on the brink of death, his default deflection of emotions still shone through, a reflex that he didn’t even mean to activate.

“I don’t need your help, you know.” He said with an impudent grin, watching as she began to work on his wounds. “It’s just a scratch. But I can see how badly you want to touch me…” Why was he like this? Here she was, giving up everything to help him (a criminal and the scum of the Earth),yet he can’t so much as even show her an iota of gratitude. He knows, but will never admit that it comes from his inner vulnerability; that fear of getting hurt by these things called emotions. She could just as easily let him bleed to death in front of her; he knows she has the capability to be stone cold. But she won’t… why?

Why?

Y/N could have easily let Hisoka’s false complacency hurt her. But she knows that what he cannot express in his words, his heart cannot truly hide. It was the way he was built, she told herself, and she pushed on through his antics because she wanted to see him safe again. Through the laceration in his tough exterior, she could not only see the flesh beneath, but a glimpse of the man he tried to hide using the monster that he assumed everyone saw.

But she was different.

The jester was confused by her silence. Normally, she would have retorted at his smugness, but right now, she didn’t even seem concerned with it as she began to fumble with cleaning his wounds. The alcohol seared his flesh just as the emotions boiling within him burned his heart. Why would she ever care to help him when he’s been nothing but rude and degrading to her? Could it be that she really can see through the detached front and overbearing persona? Impossible, he’s spent years building that reputation!

Suddenly, he became enthralled with the way Y/N’s eyes focused on threading the needle to sew up his gash. The way that those fingertips danced over his pale skin made him jolt unexpectedly at her touch, exhibiting a softness that Hisoka has never known before. In fact, he can’t even fathom someone wanting to touch him without the intention to hurt him in some way.

The details slowly became a blur in his depressed mental state- but he still analyzed every motion Y/N made.

Oddly, the promised sting of death had never scared Hisoka before; he did as he pleased, without care for his own life nor anyone else’s. But as his vision faded, and he watched her through the gaze of someone nearing death, he realized that he did not want to leave this world yet. He wanted to live- and maybe he wanted to discover and experience what he’d been missing in those movies he’d watched through her window.

With that, Hisoka’s heart began to beat faster.

Blood loss. That’s what it is… Hisoka thought; but he wasn’t stupid; only unwilling to admit that he was beginning to exhibit the same qualities he saw in the protagonists of those hopeless romantic flicks. He was unable to accept that the tightening in his chest was not just because of her stitches pulling his lacerated skin together.

“Are they dead? Did you kill them?” Her voice brought him out of the trance-like state he was in, and his golden eyes focused on her face. Her hands were covered in his blood (which in itself made him feel delightfully feverish), but his gash had been mended, the bleeding stopped for now. Once again, he didn’t say anything. It was unusual for the smug magician to keep his mouth shut.

“Because if you didn’t kill them, I’m going to.” A protective tone dripped into her voice, bewildering Hisoka again. That quality in her voice was both threatening and comforting, and the duality sent a chill up his spine. It inspired him to use his voice, though it had lost some of its signature modulation.

“You have that little faith in me…” A cough escaped his lips before he could smile as if nothing was bothering him at all. “Of course I killed them, my dear.” Somehow, calling her ‘dear’ no longer felt right; that was typically a placeholder, a default name to use for someone he had no connection with, and she seemed to be worthy of more than that now.

As Y/N suddenly dipped to her knees, Hisoka refrained from any lewd thoughts that he normally might have had in such a situation. That sensation in his chest was too distracting to allow this memory to be defiled with something he often indulged in fantasies of. She began to slide the high-heeled shoe off of his swollen foot to wrap it. She began to struggle with ripping the fabric she’d gathered to act as a cast for the bone.

Surely, she knows who I am. Why would she bother to help someone like me? What is she gaining? She knows that with the flip of a card, I could end her life. She’s not even protecting herself in any way. She’s leaving her guard down right in front of me.

Perhaps it was his dark desire to set fear into everyone he came across, or his distorted need to drive away anyone who might care for him, but his body suddenly acted on its own. By instinct, almost as if it were a test of her intention, a card spawned between his middle and index finger, which was right against her neck. With just a slight movement of his knuckles, he could spill her blood. His golden eyes analyzed the way she froze for a moment, and he believed that to be the end of this fragile trust between them. That was until she lifted the fabric she was holding, sliding it along the edge of the card, and cutting it to the perfect length.

“Thanks.” She spoke, beginning to wrap and set the ankle in place.

At that small motion, Hisoka’s discretionary eyes widened, and his lips fell open in surprise. Rather than interpreting his advance as an attack, she’d innocently taken it as an offer of his help. Was this a joke? Was she stupid enough to trust him, or was she bold enough to outsmart his games? Was Y/N this confident that he wouldn’t just kill her? This naive girl at his feet seemed to be the only person in this convoluted world who didn’t see him as a disgusting, heartless monster… and that warmed his icy heart.

“I’m surprised this hasn’t happened before. I know you’re graceful, but high heels are always a recipe for a broken ankle.” She offset the pain of wrapping those bones by talking to him all through the procedure, and it worked wonders. He scoffed, but by that time, Hisoka’s snide comments and emotion-killing thoughts had been expended. Somehow, she’d broken through the barrier that he’d spent so long building around himself.

Unable to ignore his whims anymore, Hisoka reached out to touch Y/N’s hair, the soft delicate strands pleasing his senses. It’s the only movement he can make now, his body weakened from the loss of blood. His gilded eyes were barely open, but they looked directly into hers with an unfamiliar realization. His hand travelled weakly down her face, caressing her cheek with the most delicate touch he could muster, and held her head in his large hand as she froze there. He wondered for a moment if she was afraid, or if something deeper that he cannot see calms her.

A small, genuine smile is all he could muster for her before his hand dropped to the side of the couch, the same couch he watched her curl up on most nights. For once, it’s not a smirk, and it’s not a smug smile- but something she has never seen before- a true smile with good intention behind it. His eyes closed, with uncertainty that they would open in the morning.

After she’d finished her work, she stood up, and looked down at him. The only remaining light in the room was the silent flicker of the television set in the background, which illuminated both of their faces.

“I need you to be alright, Hisoka,” She cooed, unable to know if he could still hear her. He didn’t know if she even realized how much he wanted to kill her right now, because the way her kindness was attacking his heart while his chest was already sliced open was something he should not excuse.

As Y/N’s final healing gesture, she bent over his body gracefully. He was taken off guard when he felt the feathery soft sensation of her lips on his forehead, the kiss of an angel on his clammy skin. As she went to pull away, however, she was startled by the lunge of Hisoka’s hand initiating a death grip on her wrist. He used the last bit of his strength to pull her lips into his, causing her to lose balance and be forced to brace on either side of the couch cushion below him. His lips were cold, but Y/N graciously returned the sensation, and boldly moved to embrace both sides of his face with her mending hands. Before she pulled away, and he passed out, she felt that same smile against her lips.

And in that moment, before he fades away, Hisoka realizes what he’s been missing.

Y/N.

-----------------

Hmm... part two? I KNOW, it’s super freakin’ sappy. I could have taken a lighthearted approach to this (and maybe I will later), but I wanted to kind of challenge myself to write a more depth-driven version of Hisoka. Maybe I bit off a little more than I can chew :0.

Anyway, let me know what you think, and once again thanks to anon for the request! Hope you all enjoyed!

Mac

[cry-stars]

May I suggest an AU where Don Paolo finds the Golden Apple first and adopts Flora instead of Layton? :)

Absolutely!! Thank you so much for asking! This turned out to be... pretty long, actually, almost 2000 words :'D I'm going to post it here under a cut, but I also put it in Puzzles Left Unsolved if you'd rather read it on Ao3. Thank you again for the request; it was a great chance for me to write for Don Paolo for the first time!

...

“Welcome to the Future.”

Dr. Allen smiles broadly, throwing open the clock shop’s door with careless abandon. Flora can’t hold back a gasp at the sight before her. Yes, the scenery in front of her is Midland Road, but it’s unmistakably changed: worn down, and dirty with ten years’ worth of grime. The bus stop is gone, and tall poles mounted with loudspeakers tower above the ground.

Could they really have travelled through time? It seems impossible, but then again, the evidence seems too solid to brush aside. Flora’s still reeling from the trip through the “time machine.” Between the rocky ride down here, and the changed London that she sees before her now, she’s almost convinced that she truly is in the future.

Hesitantly, she looks toward Paul, hoping that she can take a cue from his reaction to what Dr. Allen referred to as “The Future.” Her mentor looks almost as dumbfounded as she does. Then, he seems to notice her gaze. He clears his throat, calming his expression, and turns toward Dr. Allen. “For ‘Future London,” it’s not all that futuristic, is it? Where are the jetpacks and the robots?” he asks, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“I’m so sorry that the future isn’t completely what you’d hoped it would be.” Dr. Allen shrugs nonchalantly. “Now. If you’re done gawking, then we can begin discussing business. Follow me.”

As they follow Dr. Allen through the streets, Flora casts a questioning glance up towards Paul. “What do you think about this?” she whispers.

“Feh. It’s all a trick. Although I’ll admit it’s a good one.” Paul waves his hands dismissively, then brings his arm to his mouth, stifling a theatrical cough. “As bad as the air quality is in ‘present’ London, it’s nowhere near this horrendous. Coupled with the yellow sky, either the Apocalypse happened within the last ten years, or we’re underground.”

Flora’s half-disappointed, but half-not. An underground city, particularly one that so closely mirrors an existing city, is almost as fascinating as a future one—and, as Paul had said before, now that she thinks of it, she’s a little disappointed at the lack of futuristic technology. “So there’s still a chance for the jetpacks, then,” she says thoughtfully.

Paul chuckles. “If you get started on inventing them tomorrow, then there’s a slim chance that they’ll be around in ten years.”

“You could invent them too, you know,” Flora says mildly.

“Let’s stay focused on the present, my friends,” Dr. Allen says lightly. “Right this way.” Turning the corner, they enter a large tunnel, and Flora stares up in awe at the sloped roof above them, the beautiful stone-tiled road, and the pretty shops lining the walls.

“A pretty little arcade, isn’t it?” Dr. Allen says proudly, leading them toward a restaurant built into the wall of the arcade. “It’s a pity that it has no counterpart in the present. I hope this restaurant is to your liking. My partner is very fond of the place, although I don’t entirely trust his judgement.”

“You’re paying, right?” snorts Paul as the group steps through the door.

Dr. Allen raises an eyebrow. “Of course; you’re my guests. Paul, you wound me.”

“My name is Don Paolo, Allen.”

It’s strange to hear Paul reacting adversely to being called… well, Paul; Flora’s grown so used to calling him that over the last several months. Yes, he wanted to be called “Don Paolo” at first, but after the first ten times she’d called him so, he’d grunted that it was “too formal, and that she should call him “Paul” instead. Flora’s secretly glad of that; the name had always struck her as funny, but she’d hate to offend him by giggling by mistake.

Dr. Allen shrugs, and the three of them take a seat at the table, the cook coming to take their order. “Just coffee for me,” he says nonchalantly, “but give these two whatever they like. I’ll be paying.”

Paul gets a coffee as well—a smart move, Flora thinks; he wants to seem like an equal match to Dr. Allen. Flora would do the same, but upon further consideration, she just gets water; she’s not sure that she could handle anything more right now, with the amount of butterflies in her stomach. Her nerves are frayed, and being seated here, in the Future, in front of the man that summoned them here, is only exacerbating her anxiety.

“I supposed I was careless, Paul,” Dr. Allen finally says, as the coffee arrives at the table. Once again, he raises an eyebrow, glancing in Flora’s direction. “I never thought to tell you to come alone, simply because I never thought there’d be anyone who wanted to come with you.”

Flora blinks. What a rude thing to say! But now that she thinks about it, Paul really doesn’t seem to have any friends, except for her. He doesn’t often leave their flat, except when they both go to the lab to work on their engineering projects. Occasionally he’ll go off on his own, but he never talks about seeing anybody else.

Of course, there is his archnemesis, Hershel Layton, but they certainly aren’t friends, not with how Layton hurt Paul in the past! Paul never talks about what that man did, but Flora doesn’t want to force him to tell her, as curious as she is. Whatever it might be, it must’ve been traumatic, and she wouldn’t want to make him remember anything painful. But other than Layton, Flora can’t think about anybody else that Paul even knows.

Well, there is that framed picture of that pretty lady with glasses on his work desk, but Flora doesn’t even know her name, let alone if she and Paul are friends.

“If you want to know who she is, you can just ask,” Paul scowls.

“I’m his apprentice,” Flora chimes in eagerly. “I’m studying engineering, and disguises, and robotics, and… and lots of things.”

“Well, isn’t that interesting?” Dr. Allen chuckles. “I never thought you had it in you, Paul. I knew you were good with disguises, but masquerading as a mentor is a new one for you.”

“As far as you know.” Paul shrugs. “It’s not as if we were ever best friends or anything. There’s a lot of things that you don’t know about me.”

“True, true.” Dr. Allen leans forward, resting his chin on his hands. “But at least there was one thing that we had in common. And that’s what I’d like to talk about today.”

A shadow crosses Paul’s face. Is that… sadness in his eyes? “I’m not really in the mood to reminisce, Dimitri.”

“Maybe not. But perhaps you’re in the mood to help me make those precious memories reality once again?” There’s a feverish light in Dimitri’s eyes, despite his serene expression. “What if I told you that my time machine—”

A time machine?

Flora’s mind starts racing. A real time machine? Could it really exist? How does it work? What—

“That’s what killed her, Allen.” Paul’s harsh voice cuts through Flora’s daydream. “You’re delusional if you think that it’ll actually work, or that I’ll waste my time helping you.”

“I don’t think I’m delusional,” Dimitri says calmly, but Flora can see pain in his face. “But even if I am, at least I’ve got a plan. What are you going to do if you don’t help me? Continue living in your delusion of thinking Layton cares one iota about being your ‘archnemesis?’” He stands slowly. “I’m giving you a chance to help bring her back. It’s up to you if you’ll take it. I’ll give you five minutes to think it over.”

Before either of them can say anything, Dimitri exits the room.

Flora avoids looking at Paul, staring into her water glass. She feels like it isn’t her place to say anything, as curious as she is; she should wait for—

“I suppose you want to know what in the world is going on.” Paul grunts, crossing his arms, and stares into one of the paintings adorning the wall.

“If you want to tell me,” Flora says hesitantly. “I mean, it’s not really my business, is it?”

“Well, you are my apprentice, so it’s at least partly your business. Especially since you’ll be helping me make my final decision.” Paul sighs. “You’ve seen that picture on my desk, right?”

Flora blinks. “That pretty lady?”

A small smile colours Paul’s face. “Yes. She was… well, she was a friend. Well, she… she died almost ten years ago.”

Flora bites her lip. So that’s why he takes such good care of that picture. “I’m sorry,” she says quietly, not knowing what else to say.

Paul shrugs. “It was a long time ago,” he says dismissively, but Flora can hear the sadness behind the words. “She worked with him,” he says, gesturing dismissively toward the door, “building a time machine, and she died because it malfunctioned, exploding and killing her and nine other people. I… Well, I blamed him for a while, even though it wasn’t only his fault. I felt like, since he was lucky enough to work with her, he should’ve been there to save her. My only satisfaction was that he blamed himself too.” He chuckles wryly. “You probably think I’m awful now, don’t you?”

“N-no, not at all!” Flora hurries to assure him. “I… I understand why you reacted that way.” It’s all too easy to search for a scapegoat when there’s nobody else to blame. She remembers how much she hated and feared Dahlia for replacing Mama, when Dahlia really did nothing wrong… but it’s too late to mend that. She pushes the thought to the back of her mind. “But there’s a chance to bring her back, then isn’t there? If he’s got the time machine working, now.”

Paul snorts. “No way that he’ll ever actually get it to work. Not after it failed so spectacularly last time.”

Flora shouldn’t feel so disappointed at his words, but she does. She wants to find out more about this time machine. Before today, she’d hardly even thought of the concept, but now that she knows it’s something that could plausibly exist, she wants to find out more. But Paul so easily dismissed the idea. Maybe he’s right about that; after all, it did fail ten years ago. But that doesn’t mean it will fail today.

(What if she could bring her parents back?)

(What if she can bring Paul’s friend back to life?)

“Shouldn’t we give him a chance?” she asks tentatively. “Maybe he can tell us exactly how he plans to do it, and then we can make a more informed decision.”

“The only thing he’ll inform us with is more of his delusions.” But Paul looks at her curiously. “You’re really excited by this time machine thing, aren’t you?”

Is it really that obvious? Flora flushes, staring into her drinking glass once again. “Maybe a little bit. I just… I just think that if there’s a chance that it works, then we should consider all our options.”

She waits in silence for Paul’s reply. Finally, he sighs, chuckling. “Why is it always so hard to say no to you?” He stands, heading towards the door to let Dimitri back in. “Fine, fine. We’ll listen to him ramble for a few more minutes, and find out what he wants from us, and then we can decide what we’ll do.”

Flora smiles after him. “Thanks for listening to reason, Paul,” she says jokingly.

Paul grins back at her. “Don’t mention it.”

[meeko-mar]

Leak day is approaching, how we feeling? 

I’ve had this bouncing around my drafts for a little while, a little idea that hooked itself into my mind. Who’s up for some BKDK Healing/Recovery Arc fluff?? 

I'm still deeply hoping for some slower, softer chapters to follow this VERY INTENSE war arc. I know a lot of ideas out there are operating under the concept of the boys healing TOGETHER in a hospital room, but like hear me out... 

What if they start out at the hospital SEPERATELY and have to agonizingly wait until they’re better healed before they see each other? What if they can’t stand to wait any longer?

Spoilers for like...chapter 285 and beyond.

The nurses at the hospital had of course heard of Katsuki Bakugou, the boy who’d won the broadcasted UA Sports Festival. They had an inkling of the student’s more...aggressive tendencies. They steeled themselves for a potentially frustrating time managing and healing the reactive teenager.

The Doctors had done their best with his wounds in surgery as soon as he was admitted, got him stable with some much-needed blood transfusions, and sent him to rest and recover under the watch of a handful of night shift nurses. He was expected to wake sometime in the morning. 

And yet, it was still the deep dark of night, when a tell-tale yell erupted from within the room with his name scribbled hastily onto the nameplate. 

By the time the closest nurse turned the corner into the room, Katsuki was already pushing himself up with his good arm. Gritting his teeth, he swore aloud as stars popped in his blurry vision...but persisted in trying to lever himself out of bed. IV lines swung and tugged dangerously as he struggled.

The nurse rushed to the bedside as he tried to lean out the bed, but swayed from the vertigo. Pain exploded in his wounds, it felt like white hot coals had been dumped right into his gut and his left side.

“Young man, you need to lay down for now, your wounds..!” 

“D-don’t tell me what to do!” Katsuki growled, in almost a feral state. Despite the drugs in his system, he was still in survival mode. His crimson eyes landed on her, still unfocused, delirious. 

“Deku--Where...” He demanded again, voice cracking in desperation, still supported on one violently shaking arm. He squinted and blinked frantically; Why couldn’t he see straight?? 

The nurse grasped his good shoulder and eased the student back down into bed. Katsuki’s strong frame was resistant, but weakened by his injuries and lack of stamina. Even his willpower wavered with his consciousness.

“We can talk in the morning,” She assured in a calming voice. “But you need to sleep now, and stay put.”

Katsuki’s back connected again with the hospital bed, and it felt to him like it was grabbing him, keeping him there, and pulling him down into some dense fog. As his mind quickly began to drift, he wondered if the woman above him had some sort of sleep-aid Quirk. He blinked at the ceiling tiles and dimmed lights above, as the nurse adjusted his dosage, checked his IV, and logged notes on his condition. Another nurse hurried in, and they spoke quietly.

“What the hell...” Katsuki trailed off. 

Both nurses flitted from the room, and Katsuki was alone in the darkness as it swallowed him.

“...De...ku...”

---

Katsuki didn’t have any idea how long it was that he was asleep. But as his eyes tried to flutter open again, they were met with soft light. And a silence that was almost jarring, after the battle, and after the frantic nightmares. 

Nightmares...Aerial battles, explosions of green light...bursts of red....Black obsidian tendrils tearing through the air...

With a turn of his stomach, his eyes suddenly shot open, once again looking at a hospital room ceiling. Daylight was filtered out by thick curtains, and not far away, his parents seemed to have been keeping a vigil, each occupying a chair, leaning against each other in slumber. 

His sight became a bit more focused and adjusted to the light, but his breathing intensified. He looked to his other side, and found he was in a private room. The door was shut at the moment; he was boxed in. 

A flash of green energy played across his mind again....And a sick, charred hand that had reached out...

He felt a pain blossom in his abdomen as his breathing continued to spike.

He heard Deku’s yells in his mind again, and he once more felt the intense need to get up. His unrestricted hand clamped around the guards on the side of the bed, hoping for an anchor. Gritting his teeth against the fire in his gut, he tried to pull himself forward  

“Hey...Hey!” He tried to yell, but it came out so hoarse, he growled and forced more of his pained breath into it. “Old hag!” 

Mitsuki blinked awake, and jumped to see Katsuki staring back at her. Masaru awoke as well. and breathed a sigh of relief. Something twinkled in his son’s eyes that he was certain he’d never seen there before.

“Katsuki! Sit back down!! You’ll reopen your wounds!!” Mitsuki yells, surging to her feet.

“Don’t give a shit! Where the Hell is he?” Katsuki raged, once again pushing up with his good arm. His chest shuddered with hyperventilating breaths, and he felt as if it was threatening to tear him back apart. “Deku...Where’s Deku!” 

“Deku?” His father asked, a bit confused. 

“...Inko’s boy?” Mitsuki supplied, looking at Masaru as well. “Inko came to the hospital too, but...We haven’t seen her.” 

“Dammit!!” Katsuki practically yelled, and tossed a venomous look towards the door. His fingers flexed with an overwhelming urge to blow the damn thing off its hinges. “What about All Might?? Or Half and Half, or fucking anyone who knows what the fuck’s going on?!” 

“You settle the Hell down, brat, or I’ll make you!” Mitsuki loomed over him, a hand clamped tightly on the top of his head and forcing him back against his pillows. Katsuki glared at her, teeth bared and nostrils flaring, absolutely hating how weak he was to resist. “You’re damn lucky that whatever it was didn’t hit anything vital, but you almost bled out on the battlefield! You’re not going anywhere!! Don’t be a damn idiot!”

Katsuki tuned the rest of her words out. He was pretty sure she was turning to his father and going off on just how fucked this entire mission was, the insanity of putting teenagers who were clearly unprepared for the level of destruction that was involved...How none of them seemed to be properly informed of what the kids had been getting into. 

They might have been discussing the prospect of Katsuki even going back to U.A. at this point, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t muster up a single iota of a crap to give over that right now. 

He stared past his parents, at that damned door, waiting. Waiting with clenched fists, once again confined to laying against his uncomfortable pillows. His wounds were still too painful to move even if he wanted to. While somewhere out there...

Deku was somewhere out in that hospital, condition unknown. Red eyes glinted with moisture. 

Come on. 

Someone. Anyone. Come through that damn door...

He couldn’t believe how damn desperate he felt.

Tell me he’s safe. 

---

Katsuki was loathe to comply with any procedures and check ups the nurses had to run on him for the days to follow. He grew more and more aggravated the longer it went on, the more they told him to wait. It was a developing situation, and there were so, so many civilians and Heroes in the hospital from that battle, the nurses didn’t have any time to prioritize seeking out any information on Izuku’s condition for him.

He crossed in and out of sleep all day and night. He couldn’t control it, between the pain and the meds, and even the sheer boredom of not having anything to do but agonize. He could only logically badger his parents so much concerning information he knew they didn’t have. 

Sometimes sleep was a relief. A chance to pass time without thinking so deeply about everything. 

Sometimes, it just gave him more nightmares and stress, and woke him with another hit of desperation to find closure for the battle he’d survived, confirmation that his best friends had made it out alive too. 

News finally came when he woke up early in the next morning.

All Might appeared in the door way with eyes that seemed more cast in shadow than usual. Katsuki’s crimson eyes locked him and he immediately tried once more to pull himself up and forward. After the initial establishing conversation, All Might pleaded for privacy from his parents with a deep bow, and as they left the room, All Might drew himself back up. Blue eyes couldn’t quite meet Katuski’s. 

“Start talking.” Katsuki grunted, and All Might pulled up a chair. 

---

Izuku was lost in a long dream. 

He was trying desperately to find the Vestiges again... He either couldn’t reach them, or...they were gone for good. He couldn’t quite remember, and the answer was so slippery it kept evading him. 

Sometimes he would be minutely aware of what was going on around him in the physical world. Doctors. Nurses. Probes, needles, foreign hands.  

Recovery Girl’s voice...Mom’s voice. 

On the other hand, Nana’s voice. The First. Tomura Shigaraki. All For One.

He couldn’t quite grasp either side, and would be pulled once again into the dreams. It was as if he were stuck on a dizzying pendulum. 

He gave in and floated for a while. 

--- 

Hours passed, and little changed for Izuku. But as he seemed to surface back into the world, bits and pieces came back and fell into place in his mind. All of the things that had transpired. His slumbering mind could begin to process it, and make sense of it. Little by little. 

By the time emerald eyes cracked open, Izuku had realized, he must have been asleep for quite some time. He had enough experience to recognize that he’d landed in the hospital, but felt powerless to assess how bad it was. He still felt hauntingly unattached to any of his limbs for the time being, no strength left to attempt to move them. He must have been heavily drugged by this point.

He wondered about Shigaraki, if he was also reduced to a quasi-sense of being, forced to lay low, let his mangled body regenerate. He prayed that the villain would be in such a phase for a while. Izuku knew there was no way he, or any of the heroes, could handle a rematch. Maybe not for quite a while, even.

A fleeting thought, however, as it was quickly overtaken by an urgent need to know the outcomes of so many....too many, of his friends, teachers and allies. Civilians, even. Aizawa, Gran Torino, Endeavour, all injured in battle. Shoto, his dear friend, and....

Kacchan.

The realization made a spike of anxiety lance through his chest like a knife.

Dear god, Kacchan. Was he...

“Ka...cchan--” Deku murmured, suddenly, feeling the tears pooling in his eyes. His poor mother, keeping a vigil by his side, leapt up and pressed a soft hand to his forehead, quivering voice crying with encouragement for her son. 

“Mom, he...” Izuku whimpered, finally focusing on something for the first time, in his mother’s eyes. “Kacchan...The others...I couldn’t...” 

As quickly as it had come, his resolve was gone, and his broken body wracked with sobs. His determination that had held him through the battle before losing consciousness, the rage, the adrenaline, was gone, and all that remained was the heartache that came from such destruction, from seeing his mentors and friends torn down one by one.

The image of blood suspended in air, and a shadow of a figure falling towards the Earth, stained his vision. 

---

Days into Katsuki’s stay at the hospital, All Might visited again. The man still had so many new lines on his face, though he was heartened to see Katsuki, determined as he was, recovering and gaining focus quickly. Though with the focus, came that trademark, Bakugou impatience.

“He’s still in surgery!?” Katsuki yelled.

“More like, in and out of Surgery. They can only do so much at one time, even Recovery Girl could barely work with him, his stamina is almost non-existent right now...” All Might sighed. “And, there’s no shortage of other patients for her, unfortunately.” He said sadly, sipping a cup of tea with a white knuckled grip. 

“That bad, huh.” Katsuki sneered, looking away from the man. Softly, he muttered, “Fuckin’ Deku.” 

All Might smiled a deeply sad smile. 

It had sounded spiteful, to the untrained ear, but by now, he could recognize how deep Katsuki’s concern really went.

---

One week after the incident at Jakku found Katsuki well enough to finally feel the cold tile beneath his bare feet again. Short walks were in order, as he was allowed to pace in his room every once in a while. The taste of regained autonomy was amazing, but he still felt the need to rest after very short walks, the wounds in his core still on the mend. Steps were small, and few, but Katsuki was feeling better for the improvement. 

He leaned against the edge of his bed, muscles still stiff. Left arm in a sling, and right hand gently set on his stomach, he breathed deeply as he was able, assessing what his body was telling him.

He was gradually getting better, and the next goal was finally heading out that door. Fierce red eyes could have shattered the wood of the door, now left open just a crack. They couldn’t keep him in here forever.

---

“Good news,” All Might had told him, looking a little brighter. “They’ve moved Young Midoriya to the recovery ward. They’ve done everything they can for the boy, now all that’s left is to see how his limbs heal.” 

Finally, Katsuki had thought. He was getting tired of waiting for the nerd to recover.

He scowled as he stalked out that door, and into the hospital hallway. His mended wounds still throbbed with each tender step, but the pain was becoming more and more dull everyday. He was itching to be able to get into physical therapy, and recuperate his body back into peak condition. 

The ache in his shoulder gave him the most unease...His arms and shoulders needed to be up to taking the brunt of his Quirk. There was no time to lose in recovering those tissues, and he locked away any fears of never living up to his previous output, never being able to surpass it...He just couldn’t think of that right now.

Slippers scuffed against clean linoleum. Around the corner and nine doors down, All Might had said. He rounded the corner, and came, abruptly, to a stop, all inner thoughts ceasing. Crimson eyes had fallen on a figure ahead of him, and locked, his jaw dropping just slightly. 

There before him, clearly in a state of dizziness, was Izuku himself. Of course, he seemed to be muttering to himself, staring intently at the name plates of each room he was passing.

Their eyes met.  

His arms were bound up in thick casts once again, and in slings over his stomach, and bandages covered almost his entire torso in lieu of any shirt. Izuku stared back, large emerald eyes tired and glistening. He seemed to tremble at the sight of Katsuki, and the moisture in his eyes threatened to over flow. 

“K-Kacchan,” He whimpered, blinking back the sudden tears, unable to wipe them away. 

Katsuki's body suddenly unlocked, and he marched up on the other boy, as hard and as fast as his body would permit. 

“What the fuck, Deku?!” Katsuki scolded. He planted a palm on the top of Izuku’s green head of hair, tilting his tear-stained face up to look at him. “Damn nerd, What the Hell are you doing out of bed?!” 

“Kacchan,” Izuku sniffed, staring up into crimson eyes without an ounce of restraint on his emotions. “Y-you’re out of bed too...Are you okay?” 

Katsuki twitched at the question, a reflex reaction now due to long years of rejection to the nerd’s selfless worries. 

“Don’t you switch this around! I’m not the one who just got out of surgery!” Katsuki barked, ignorant to any stares from passersby they were drawing. “You shouldn’t be able to move, dammit!!”

“It’s okay, I mean, my legs feel totally fine!” Izuku argued weakly, even as his legs seemed to quiver just slightly beneath him. For the first time in the exchange, a hint of a dismissive, but pained grin tugged at his lips. There was still a very visible split on his bottom lip. 

“That’s not the point, you--!!” Bakugou growled behind gritted teeth, fingers twitching impulsively under the messy nest of hair. How was he ever going to get through that thick skull of Deku’s??

“Please, Kacchan,” Izuku urged, “I know, I shouldn’t be out here yet, but I had to know for sure....that you were ok...I thought I’d really lost you...” He was beginning to choke on his words. 

“They told you I was fine, so why go out of your damn way?! Why get outta bed when you can barely stand up straight, huh??” Katsuki retorted.

“I’m not explaining how much more it’d hurt if you were gone!” Izuku cried, and raised his head against Katsuki’s hand, cheeks flushed. He shook his head just gently, feeling a headache blossoming. “It’s not logical, I was...I was afraid, okay?! I have nightmares every time I close my eyes, telling me that Shigaraki kill-... took you away, or Todoroki wasn’t able to help you in time. It keeps replaying in my mind, and...And if it hadn’t been for me...” 

He was gulping in air at this point, the words themselves seeming to scar him as he acknowledged their effect on him. Katsuki was unsurprised by the tears flowing anew, but something about the tremor in Izuku’s voice, shook him.

“I had to see you. And if my legs would work, then...There’s no way I could stop myself.” Although tired, his eyes glinted with that stubborn edge. It was the same, almost scared look of determination that had looked at him in the dark hallways of their first training exercise all those months ago...The first time they’d fought.

Wide crimson eyes held steady, and he noticed the shadows under the boy’s eyes, shadows of bruises that lingered against his freckles. 

The hand that was on Izuku’s head suddenly shifted to the back of his head and he pulled gently, until Izuku’s forehead connected with Katsuki’s uninjured shoulder. Katsuki’s strong arm almost cradled him there in a half-embrace. A moment’s hesitation, and then his fingers curled around the deep, unruly green locks. Not to hurt, or threaten, never again... 

“Idiot... Idiot. How the fuck do you think I feel?!” Katsuki muttered shakily against Izuku’s bowed head, his features furrowing. “Don’t you ever...fight like that again.” He bit his lip ferociously as it quivered, before any more words could spill out. 

Izuku felt tense for a moment, adjusting to this strange new reality. In time, he eased, leaning into Katsuki’s offered shoulder, feeling the warmth of the arm curled around him. He felt a pang of guilt for being so overjoyed that Katsuki was here with him when so much had been lost...And another wave of surprise and contemplation as Katsuki’s words pinged around in his head. Even so, he dared to smile a broken smile into Katsuki’s shoulder, where no one in the world could see.

He only wished that his own hands were free so he could reciprocate the gentle gesture that was so exceedingly rare from the blonde, but so comforting. 

Katsuki grimaced, but made no objection when tears began to soak the fabric of his shirt. The weight and the warmth of Izuku’s head against him was oddly comforting to him. A quivering sigh of relief escaped him, his cheek buried in green curls. 

Reluctantly, the thought dawned on him; This is okay. Whatever this is...was worth the damn wait. 

Turns out the wait was actually much, much longer than the time spent in the hospital. 

---

*BONUS* owo

I DID happen to doodle the moment that really locked this into my mind and made me have to write this; I literally drew these at slow moments at work on receipt paper. (scanned a tad bit out of chrono. order though)

ALSO A NOTE: 

I happened to fixate on this idea of Kacchan always grabbing Deku by the head(there was a post with a lot of this floating around not too long ago) and I’m convinced it’s part of his own unique language. You may have noticed, I threw in the little detail of contrast with how his mother in fact does the same thing, but forcefully, and exerting dominance over her son. Kacchan uses it this time to communicate with Deku, but it ends up being more gentle and as a comfort. 

YES PARELELLS. 

If I ever have time and inclination, I would love to redo these little doodles, honestly = u =  

ANYWAY thank  you if you’ve made it this far, I hope you liked :D

[dangermousie]

Soooo, CFC 51

(Yeah more thoughts now I actually read it in human translation.)

I realize this is minor compared to He Yu later still thinking he’s as straight as a ruler while he’s preparing to fuck XQC and salivating at the prospect but this is long before fucking even occurs to him and he’s running his thumb over someone’s mouth and yet is incapable of even processing that stroking your former doctor/current enemy’s lips with your thumb’s is not a thing people do unless they are attracted...

You know what snagged my attention here? The fact that XQC feels rage. Overwhelming rage. GOOD! He should feel rage at how he is treated; he’s so buttoned down and so refuses to allow himself to feel and process things (probably because there is so much grief and rage and feeling of exhaustion and injustice) but what started as a saving mechanism is now terrible for him. I mean, this whole sequence is gonna take him apart and be horrible (hell, HY’s whole goal is for that to happen), so I am gonna take a small silver lining where I can get.

Meatbun keeps referring to HY as a dragon throughout but before it’s as if one with clipped talons etc and now he’s finally not bothering. But I love that image not just because of danger the it conveys but because it also conveys he’s not really human or with human reactions - he pretended to be and did so well, but he’s very other.

Oh my God, He Yu, if you were any gayer, you’d be the Pride Parade marshal. OMG. Seriously.

This said, “how did you find out you were gay?” “I decided to rape my former doctor and liked it” is not a coming out story one usually thinks about.

Has He Yu or anyone else in these aphrodisiac related stories never heard of masturb*tion? Your dick, drugged or not, is not gonna care if it gets to come into another person or solo. I always wonder about that.

One of the things that is the grossest about all of this (I love the novel, am intrigued by the plot, love XQC, find HY fascinating as a character because as @momoliee​ put it there is no safety net with him - and it’s true you never know what he’s going to do and yet his behavior is both surprising yet utterly logical for his character BUT in terms of my feelings - I seriously seriously loathe HY and need him to be locked up forever and perhaps having every bone in his body broken for a month straight) is that while a lot of this is informed by HY’s subconscious being seriously gay and lusting after XQC for years (even if HY’s conscious mind doesn’t get it), just as much or more of it is driven by the fact that consciously, he wants to break and hurt and humiliate and torture XQC as much as possible. It really is rape as tool of punishment and and control and hurt (as it usually is.) Combined with HY’s toxic views on gender roles and sexuality, it’s such a toxic dump of a mess with so much of HY’s excitement coming from the fact that having sex with a man, let alone being raped by a man with having to be the “receiver” of such attentions, is the most unbearable thing he can do to XQC and that the top is totally masculine and fine and the bottom is humiliating and gross. Once again, totally realistic for HY to think that within his character parameters but makes me want to stab him through the face.

As I said.

GROSS!

Also, He Yu is a huge idiot in addition to being a moral wasteland because he doesn’t even pause to think why he’s turned XQC into n1 enemy when at most, even if we take everything HY saw and thinks  he saw at face value, XQC was a professional and effective physician for him for 7 years, did his job well enough but did not develop any warm feelings towards him, didn’t like him/was afraid of him due to his condition (and let’s face it, if that was the case, He Yu has richly proven XQC justified in wanting to get the hell away) and gave him platitudes he did not believe in himself but convinced HY were a good credo. Is it a disappointment? Sure. But XQC is at most 1% responsible for HY’s state and misery. Why doesn’t he seek out his terrible family, who his beef should be with? Because he’s obsessed with XQC and because he has the brains of a plank, that’s why!

Orrrrrrrr....just a thought...XQC may call the cops! Unfortunately, I am sure he won’t. But he should. Because it’s clear He Yu is in one of his fits brought on by his condition so he’s not 100% all there and if he wasn’t in that fit, he wouldn’t do this however angry or broken or deceived or whatever he felt. BUT! If someone is capable of and performs violent rape when they have a fit, they should really not allowed to be at large in society. I don’t care if it’s jail or a mental institution, but they should be locked up to protect others.

The thing is, HY is once again not thinking at all - leaving aside morality, since he has none - how about self-preservation? Let’s say XQC doesn’t report him to the cops, if HY continues on his acting out path, someone else will or even without the trail of attention and scandal will definitely attract the notice of his parents and they only put up with him due to face. They have not one iota of affection so the moment he causes issues, he’s getting put away.

Bwahahahaha oh Meatbun, points for knowing what you like!

But oh Good God, is MR going to be the only one of her gongs who knows what he’s doing in bed? Like, Mo Xi was terrible and now this. I never knew anyone had a kink for bad sex ahahha

I have NO idea where this story goes from here tbh. I can’t imagine HY and XQC even tolerating being in the same room together after this let alone anything else. How this will ever end up in a couple is beyond me. But I trust Meatbun forever so!

[onceuponastory]

Coming Back Home: Chapter Seven - Whistle For the Choir

“Is it out of line if I was to be bold and say "Would you be mine"? Because I may be a beggar and you may be the queen I know I may be on a downer, I'm still ready to dream” - whistle for the choir: the fratellis

Plot: Based on a prompt by @orphicodysseywrites​

Tag List: @shinydixon​, @baker151910​, @silverwings1999 and @thesundrop​. Let me know if you want to be added!

Warnings: Some mentions of alcohol and anxiety. Also a few tiny sex mentions/references but nothing smutty. Notes: Wow. So it’s been a while since I’ve posted for this fic, hasn’t it? I’m sorry about that. BUT I love this story, and I intend to finish it. This chapter is more of a filler one before the wedding in the next chapter or two, so Y/N and Nick’s relationship isn’t a huge focus, but I hope you all enjoy it regardless!

Read the other parts / Read this story on Wattpad!

Disclaimer: I do NOT own Nick or his character! I just used Nick bc he’s the only character of Dacre’s that fits this prompt. Aside from Nick being in this, this fic has NOTHING to do with The Broken Hearts Gallery. But you should all see the movie if you can, because it’s adorable!

Softly groaning, I wake up. For a moment, I feel something on my waist, and almost scream, until I realise I'm still in Nick's arms. He's still fast asleep, his chest slowly rising and falling with every breath. I smile, watching him sleep for a while. He looks so content...so peaceful. Is this what it's like to get a proper nights sleep? But as soon as that thought crosses my mind, another replaces it. I didn't have a nightmare last night...did I? I had a proper nights sleep too. Frowning, I wiggle out of Nick's arms, trying not to wake him. Once I've done that, I roll over to where the clock beside my bed reads 7:47am. Oh my god. I slept FULLY through the night for one of the first and only times in my life. I sit for a few moments, trying to decipher what it was that helped me sleep so well. Is it because I’ve been drinking less wine? Or is it because I’ve been eating healthier recently? 

“You idiot.” I tell myself. “You know why you slept well, and he’s sleeping right beside you.” Nick grunts, and shifts a little in his sleep. Looking back down at him. I smile again. He's beautiful. And he likes me. Me. Despite my anxieties, my awkwardness and well...everything else, Nick likes me just for myself. Kissing him again wouldn't be so bad. Maybe just a small cheek peck? But Nick soon starts mumbling to himself as he wakes up. As he looks around the room, his blue eyes focus on me looking down at him, and a soft chuckle escapes his lips. 

"Were you watching me sleep?" He asks, his voice husky. It takes all my willpower to not kiss him right there and then.

"...Maybe. But you looked so peaceful. Who could blame me?" Instead of replying with words, Nick leans up and kisses me again. God, if this is still a dream, I don't ever want to wake up from it. Nick sits up, and his arms go around my back as the kiss deepens.

"Good morning." He whispers once we pull apart. The look he gives me sends my heart into backflips again.

"Morning." I smile. But before we can say anything else, a knock sounds on the door.

"Y/N, are you there? I'm coming in! Just checking if you're okay after yesterday. Nick's not here, so I don't know if he-" The two of us spring apart just as Katie walks into the room. Her eyes go wide as she takes in the sight in front of her...her big sister in bed with the best man.

"Um....morning sis." I smile awkwardly, and Nick gives a small wave from beside me, trying to cover some of his body with the quilt.

"Oh. My. God."

~~~ "I need details immediately. What happened?" Katie asks, eyeing us both as she takes a bite from her toast.

"Katie, I swear we didn't...do it-" Nick begins, but she cuts him off.

"Not you, I mean Y/N." She states. My cheeks flash red.

"Well, uh...Nick came to see I was okay, as you know. And well..." I don't know why I'm so nervous. After all, Katie had said she was okay with me acting on my feelings for Nick, which I had done. And yet, I didn't want to tell her what happened. Maybe because she walked in on us, rather than us telling her ourselves. "We kissed. That's all." She raises an eyebrow.

"That's all? I found you both in bed together at 8am. I mean, you were both fully clothed, but still."

"We just shared a bed, we didn't do anything else." I tell her. I'm not sure if she believes me, but she nods anyway, before going back to munching on her toast. "Anyway. How are you feeling after yesterday? Is everything okay?" I ask. She reaches over the table and takes my hand.

"I'm feeling much better. Thank you for being there for me Y/N. And you Nick. Adam helped too of course. I think I'm starting to put it out of my mind." She smiles. "What, with the wedding and all." Suddenly, her eyes go wide, and she drops the toast onto her plate. "Oh my god. I'M GETTING MARRIED THIS WEEK!" She squeals. I can immediately sense her anxiety levels rising. "I'm...what if...we-" She begins to panic. "And there's the rehearsals and the dinner, and omg I still have to do this and-"

"Hey, hey, hey. It's okay. We're here to help. And besides, everything's ready to go, we just need to take everything over to the hotel and to the venue before the big day."

"You sure?" She asks, and I nod. Katie takes a deep breath. "You're right. I'm calm. Everything will be fine. We'll show our Dad. We'll make it a party he'll regret missing! I mean, can you believe he wanted to miss it? Idiot." A smile grows on her face, and Nick and I give each other a look, both sensing something is off.

"Uh Katie, are you sure you're okay? We can talk about it if you want." She shakes her head.

"I'm fine. Water under the bridge."

"Katie seriously, if you're still upset, we-"

"NOPE. I'm fine. How could I still be upset when I have THIS!" She waves her arms at us. "Two of my favourite people have found each other and are finally happy! Man, I love love! I love weddings!!! Best time ever. Now come on you two. We have work to do!" She announces, getting up and leaving the room, taking her plate with her.

"Uh...Is she okay?" Nick asks as we watch her go.

"I have no idea. I better keep an eye on her. I'll see you later, okay?" I ask, and he squeezes my hand for reassurance. It's going to be a long day.

~~~

"Seriously sis. I'M FINE." Katie tells me again as we load the garment bags containing our gowns into our bags. "But enough about me. What's Nick like? You know..." I gasp. "Not like that! I mean kissing wise. Was it nice?"

"Yeah, it was really nice." I answer, feeling my cheeks flushing slightly. Katie smiles.

"Maybe we'll be planning your wedding next. Will it be as awesome as mine though? We'll have to see." She winks, organising the bags. Frowning, I open my mouth to say something, but she cuts me off again. "Right, time to load these into the car. Come on sis, let's go!" She calls, picking up a load of bags and walking out of the room with them. I watch her go again. For a moment there, it almost looked like Katie's smile dropped, but she replaced it before I could say anything.

Something definitely isn't right with her.

~~~

As the day continues, and Katie and I finalise final bridal preparations, I can still sense something isn't right. But I don't want to prod her too much, so I let her go on and on about how great the wedding is going to be, and how it's going to be the best party anyone has ever been to. If she's ready to talk to me, she will.

And soon, she does. As we’re carrying boxes to the car, a centerpiece slips out of the box she is carrying, and it lands on the driveway. "I'll get it!" I call, bending down to pick it up. Before I even get back up however, I hear a sniffle from beside me.

"Just leave it. It's stupid anyway. This whole thing is stupid." I snap my head up.

"What do you mean?" I ask, rushing over to her.

"Look. There must be a reason why Dad doesn't want to come to the wedding. Even if I make it a great party, he still won't come. Maybe it's stupid." She sighs, wiping her eyes. Anger rises within me. Our Dad already made me hate myself for twenty one years, and I won't let him do the same to Katie.

"No. It's not stupid. The only reason why Dad doesn't want to come is because he expected us to welcome him back with open arms after what he did, and make him part of our family. And we didn't! He's just too proud to admit that his daughters don't care about him or what he thinks anymore."

"But...I do." She sniffs, and I pull her into a hug. "Even if he doesn't care about me."

"I'm sorry sis. But trust me. He is not worth it. He is not worth ANY of our tears. Years of therapy and trying to learn how to love myself taught me that. And look at us now! We're both happy with people we love and care about around us, and yet he can't even get his two daughters back because we know what a piece of garbage he is. He means nothing to us. If he cared a single iota about us, he would've shown up long before this. And he would have stayed for your wedding. But he didn't." Katie looks up at me, her eyes glistening.

"Maybe you're right about that..." She trails off.

"I am right. Trust me. He is not worth any of your pain. And no. Your wedding isn't stupid. Who was the one who specifically wanted a vintage shabby chic theme for your wedding, even when your planner said it is one of the most basic and popular choices?"

"Me."

"And who has constantly picked things she wanted without letting anyone else change her mind...even Caroline and the bachelorette venue? Or me and this town?" Katie sniffles, and giggles.

"Me!"

"And who's going to have a PERFECT wedding, all by herself, not giving a single fuck about whether or not her Dad is there?"

"...Me?"

"That's right! Because you and Adam picked out everything to please yourselves. Nobody else. So you don't need to worry about pleasing our Dad or making him jealous, because pleasing others is never what you wanted to do. All you ever wanted to do was celebrate your love to Adam. And you'll do exactly that. Dad or no Dad." I tell her. "And besides. I think these centerpieces are beautiful. After all. I helped make them, so I might be biased." Katie laughs again at that, this time a proper, happy laugh. It makes me smile.

"Yeah...yeah you're right. I'm sorry about that. I was probably letting what happened yesterday and my nerves get the best of me."

"It's okay. Hey. How about when we get back home, I give you the number of my therapist? You don't have to go...but maybe it'll do us both good to talk about it with a professional. It’s been really helpful for me so far."

"I'd like that."

"And until then, you know I'm always here for you right?" Katie nods, and we hug again. We both load the box into the car, and head back towards the house. I slip my arm around her waist and pull her in close. Another crisis averted. For now anyway.

"Wait, did you just say that you're in love with Nick?" Katie asks, her eyes wide.

"I said nothing of the sort." I mean, I didn't...it just slipped out. I don't even know how I feel about him. I mean, I like him, of course I do, and I want to see him again after the wedding is over. It's just...I don't know if he wants to see me again. And love is a strong word to use when we only kissed yesterday. And this morning. Still though. It's too soon. "You idiot." A little voice in my head says. "Of course he wants to see you again. He wouldn't have kissed you otherwise. He's not the kind of person to kiss someone and then just ditch them....at least I hope not."

"Look at you blush! You totally did say that!" Katie grins, pointing at my face. "Are you going to tell him?"

"No! Katie I don't even know how I feel yet, or how he feels. And besides, it's not like I have time to think about it, because we're literally leaving the day after tomorrow to go to the wedding rehearsal and the rehearsal dinner, and then we're staying in the hotel with the rest of the bridal party the night before, remember?"

"Yeah, you're right. But you should give it a think." She says, and I nod. She was right, of course. But I didn't want to think about it. I wasn't ready to consider the possibility that Nick was going to leave me, and that I'd be alone again. I already have to deal with what feels like losing my younger sister to her new family, I can't handle losing Nick too. I mean, I was happy for Katie, of course I was. What kind of monster would I be if I wasn't happy for my little sister getting married after the shit childhood we had? But it had just been the two of us for so long. We lived together for so long, spoke everyday on the phone when we were at university, and we even live about an hour away from each other by train. But now I have to come to terms with the realisation that she might not be living so close to me after she gets married. I know I can't protect her for the rest of her life, and I don't want to smother her...but actually coming to terms with that was hard. God, is this what parents feel like when their kids finally leave the nest? Cause it's shit.

~~~

That night, as I finish packing up my things to take to the hotel before the wedding, I spot a picture of Katie and I the night of her senior prom. Smiling fondly, I pick it up and sit down on my bed, looking down at the picture. There's a knock on the door.

"Come in." I call. Nick opens the door and sits beside me.

"Hey. What'cha looking at?" He asks.

"This is Katie and I the night of her senior prom." I let him look at the picture.

"Oh my god, her dress looks like a marshmallow."

"Hey! I helped her pick that out! It's a very pretty marshmallow. Even if it's bright pink and sparkly."

"Is her dress like this?" He asks.

"No! You'll see it on Friday." I sigh, looking down at the picture. "God, this feels like it was just yesterday, and now she's getting married..." I trail off as tears start to fill in my eyes. Fuck. I can't cry in front of Nick.

"Hey, are you alright?" Nick asks. He gently presses a soft kiss to the side of my head. And that is what sets my tears off. Shit. I mean, Nick has seen me at some of the worst points of my life, and still stayed beside me, but it doesn't mean that I like being so vulnerable in front of him.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I sniff, wiping my eyes. "It's just been tough, realising that she's growing up and won't be my little sister who's just across the hall from me or an hour away from me anymore. It's dumb, I know. This was always going to happen, I just never thought about it until now." Nick smiles softly.

"I understand. It's not dumb." He gently takes my hand, and I look over at him. God, how is he always SO nice? I swear it's not normal. As I look into his blue eyes, I realise that I’m not ready to say goodbye to Katie...and I’m definitely not ready to say goodbye to Nick either. I’m not ready for this change. "Maybe you should talk to her about it though. I mean, she is your sister, I'm just a friend of hers.” 

“Easier said than done." I sigh. “She’s focused on only the wedding right now, and then she’ll be away on her honeymoon early the next morning, so I don’t think I’ll have any time to.” Nick gives me a small smile, and gently rubs my arm.

"Well I hope you do get to speak to her. It sounds important.” His face lights up with remembrance. “Oh! By the way, when you get a chance, can we talk? About...this? About us?" He asks. My heart sinks. This is what I've been worrying about. I can feel my separation anxiety is about to rear its ugly head again. Maybe Nick does want to leave me after this wedding. And then Katie will be gone too, and I’ll be all alone again.

"I mean, we can try, but given that the wedding is literally in four days, it might be too hard to do that." I laugh awkwardly, hoping that he doesn’t pick up on my nervousness. Thankfully Nick chuckles. “We could, uh, talk about it now if you want?” I offer. Nick shakes his head.

“Sorry, but I can’t now. Adam needs me to help sort some stuff in like ten minutes, and then I’m booked and busy for the rest of the week.”

“Same here. But we’ll talk. I promise. You better go help Adam.” I reassure him. Smiling, Nick pecks my lips, and leaves the room. As the door closes behind him, I sigh, trying not to let my anxiety get the best of me. Nick likes me. He keeps kissing me, after all. He must like me. Right? He obviously wants to tell me he wants to see me again. At least, that’s what I hope for. Ever since I was young, I’ve wanted someone to love and to love me back. Someone who wasn’t my family. Someone who wouldn’t leave me...and even though it might be too soon, I think Nick might be that person for me.

I just hope he feels the same.

~~~

Three Days Later: The Night of the Wedding Rehearsal and the Rehearsal Dinner. One Day til the Wedding.

“THAT’S Nick?!” Brooke gasps, pointing over at where Nick is standing, talking to some other groomsmen. “He’s even more attractive in real life.”

“Yup. Isn’t he dreamy?” Katie sighs fondly. We all look over at her. “What, just cause I’m getting married tomorrow doesn’t mean I can’t have one last look. He is nice, isn’t he Y/N?” She asks, wiggling her brows which almost makes me choke on my champagne. All of the bridesmaid’s faces turn to me, some frowning at me. “Oh, didn’t she tell you that she and Nick are totally a thing now?” My mouth drops open, along with the rest of the girls. 

“That’s not true, we haven’t even spoken about-” But before I can finish, the officiant clears their throat, encouraging us to take our places for the wedding rehearsal. As Katie and I walk to the beginning of the makeshift aisle, we pass Nick on the way. 

“Hey.” He smiles, and my heart almost stops. God he’s gorgeous. He’s wearing a suit, just minus a tie. I can see part of his chest poking through his shirt. If this is how I feel seeing him now, how will I manage to see him in his full suit tomorrow? And the fact we haven’t even managed to speak about our feelings for each other yet wasn’t helping either.

“Hi.” I whisper. 

“Good luck with uh...you know. This.” He says. I raise an eyebrow. 

“With...walking?” Nick’s face flushes pink, and I hear Katie snigger from beside me.

“Y..Yeah! With walking. And heels and stuff. Don’t want you to break your ankle before tomorrow or anything.” I start giggling, and even Nick lets out a small smile. Even if it’s a bit awkward, it’s still cute, and I appreciate the sentiment.

“I’ll try. Thanks Nick. See you soon.” We both nod, and Katie and I take our positions. Katie is still giving me a look, and I frown. “What?”

“You and Nick! Look at you. It’s so obvious that you two have the hots for each other. Anyone in this room can see it. Even Adam’s parents.” Now I start blushing, and I hiss:

“Okay, we are not talking about this right now, especially not at your wedding rehearsal dinner of all places.” Katie just gives me a wink, and the two of us don’t say anything else as the bridesmaids and groomsmen start to walk down the aisle together. Soon, it’s our turn to go. As we walk down the aisle together, my eyes wander towards Nick. He’s staring at me. Why is he staring at me? God what if I do fall? Shit. Okay Y/N, think of anything BUT Nick.

Nick’s POV

“Why are you staring at her like that?” Adam whispers.

“What? I’m not staring at anyone.” I lie. Adam rolls his eyes. 

“Come on man, it’s pretty obvious.” He retorts, before turning back and walking up to receive Katie from Y/N so they can be married. Y/N smiles widely as she mimes handing her sister over to be married, and her smile makes me feel all warm inside. It’s a beautiful smile. It fits her perfectly. Y/N takes her place beside the other bridesmaids, and her gaze catches my eye again. She gives me a small smile, and I smile back. She looks stunning. She’s in a navy lace dress that hugs her figure perfectly. And I just want to rip it off of her. God, I hope she likes me back too. Even though we’ve kissed each other, I still can’t be sure. Y/N’s such a great person, and she deserves someone who can tell her that everyday. And I want to be that person for her. But before I can think of anything else, Adam and Katie suddenly cut into my thoughts:

“And then this is when we get the rings from Nick and do our vows.” Katie explains, and I nod. God, my best friend is getting married to the love of his life tomorrow and all I’m thinking about is how I want to make out with the maid of honour. I need to talk to her about my true feelings as soon as possible. The wedding rehearsal finishes up pretty quickly, but before I can talk to Y/N, she’s swept up by Katie and the rest of her bridal party who leave the room, clearly ready to go to dinner together. I sigh as Adam walks up behind me. 

“Come on loverboy. You can talk to her later.” He says. I frown, about to ask him how he knows what I’m thinking about, but he doesn’t respond, and instead gives me a knowing look. “Come on lover boy, we better go.” He orders, walking away with the rest of the groomsmen. I sigh. Hopefully he’s right, and that I can talk to Y/N soon.

~~~

A few hours later

Y/N’s POV

“So.” Vanessa begins, sipping on her wine. We have finished our dinner, and Vanessa, Sam and I are hanging out with each other. “You and Nick, huh?” She raises an eyebrow. My heart rate speeds up, and I gulp down the rest of my wine, already feeling the familiar buzz of becoming tipsy. God, I wish I brought more.

“Uh, what about us?” I frown, trying to feign innocence. Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t work. She and Sam scoff.

“He’s been staring at you for the whole night. Actually, babe, is he still looking at her?” She asks Sam. Sam’s head whips around, not subtly at all, and my cheeks flush red.

“Yup, he’s still looking.” She confirms, and goes back to sipping her beer like nothing major was going on. My cheeks now feel like they’re on fire. “Awww, young love.” She smiles. “I remember that feeling, don’t you babe?” Vanessa nods.

“Why don’t you talk to him? He obviously wants to talk to you. Either that, or he’s trying to win a staring contest.” I splutter.

“I can’t talk to him! For one, my sister is getting married tomorrow, so that takes priority, and I don’t even know if he likes me in that way, despite our kiss.” Sam and Vanessa’s eyes go wide. Now I remember why I don’t drink wine. Because I can’t shut up when I do.

“YOU KISSED?!” They gasp in unison. I quickly shush them, but they continue. “Okay, you definitely need to talk to him. Now.”

“But-”

“But nothing. Katie will understand. And don’t be silly, of course he likes you in that way.” They reassure me, gently pushing me in Nick’s direction. “And if he breaks your heart, we’ll deal with it.” They wink, giving me one last push. Why does it feel like I’m being thrown to the wolves? Nick sees me, and he smiles, relief flooding his features. My heart rate speeds up even more. He’s so beautiful. I can do this, right? I just have to go up to him and say:

“Hey, I think you’re extremely attractive, and I want to know how you feel about me, even though we’ve kissed a lot these past few days, and I was wondering if you wanted to be my boyfriend?” ....Okay no. No wonder I’ve been single this long if this is what I think classifies asking someone out. Maybe I should just talk to him? Even though it’s easier said than done. I take a deep breath, steeling myself, and start the walk over to him. It might be easier said than done, but I have to do it. 

But just as I’m about to reach him, a voice from beside me calls:

“Oh Y/N, dear!” Adam’s mother walks up to me. Oh great. Just what I need. I’ve only spent time with Adam’s mother a few times, probably less than ten times, and she was lovely all those times, but I have more important things to do. 

“Hi, it’s nice to see you again, but I actually-” I begin, before she links her arm with mine, and pulls me in the direction of some more aunts and uncles. Oh, this is not good. “Actually, I have to do some-” I start, but she cuts me off.

“I wanted to introduce you to some people. Adam’s great aunt Agnes actually has a question about tomorrow, and I thought you’d be able to help, because you and Katie have done such a wonderful job so far.” That’s nice, but I don’t know what I’m supposed to be able to fix before tomorrow. And I have more important things to do. I look back over at Nick, mouthing the word sorry to him, and he nods, but still looks disappointed. I sigh. There goes that chance to clear things up. Meanwhile, Adam’s mother is still chattering away, and hasn’t even noticed me looking at Nick, or my half assed replies or nods. Thankfully, Katie soon appears in front of us both, announcing that she needs me for important maid of honour duties. I sigh happily. Thank god. “Wait!” Adam’s mother calls before we leave. “I just wanted to say...I know you girls haven’t had a mother figure in your lives for a while, and I just wanted to say that you both have one in me. Even you Y/N. Your sister may be marrying my son, but I love you both as if you were my own. And besides, after tomorrow, we’re family!” She smiles, pulling us both into a tight hug. As she squeezes me tightly, I feel tears stinging at my eyes. Now I feel bad for trying to escape...even though it was so I could confess my love for the best man. “If either of you need anything, I’m here for you okay?” She asks, and we nod. “See you tomorrow.” Katie and I wave, and she leads me away. 

“Thanks for saving me.” I whisper. “Now, where did Nick get to?” Katie frowns.

“Nick? He and the rest of the groomsmen left to go back to the house a while ago.” My heart sinks. Dammit. “I was actually coming to get you. It’s time for us to head over to the hotel, and I gotta give you girls your presents!” She squeals excitedly. She leads me outside to a limo, and we get inside, being greeted by the others. Sam and Vanessa look at me expectantly, but I shake my head. They look disappointed, but say nothing. As the car sets off towards the hotel, everyone starts to chatter excitedly and pass around glasses of champagne, while I just stare out of the window. I know my mind should be focused on my sister, and I am excited for her, of course I am...but I just want to see Nick.

~~~ In the Hotel

“Okay, so these are your robes to wear while we’re getting ready tomorrow.” Katie explains, passing them around. “Aaaaand, there’s these too. There’s a little note in each.” She hands each of us a little gift bag. Soon, the room fills with a chorus of ‘awww’ and ‘thank you’. I reach into my bag and pull out a bracelet with a little heart charm. My initials are engraved into the charm. “Read the note.” Katie tells me, and I open it.

“Dear Y/N, aka the best big sister in the world. I just wanted to say thank you for everything you’ve ever done, and continue to do for me. I know I say this to you a lot, but it’s true. I hope to one day repay the kindness you’ve shown me over the years. You’ve been the only person who has supported and loved me throughout our lives. Even though I may not be able to see you as often as usual, I’ll always be there for you. You’ve been the one constant in my life, and our bond is unbreakable. I’m not going anywhere any time soon, and I’m not letting you go either!

Lots and lots of love,

Katie xxx

P.S. Ask Nick out. Please. He won’t shut up about you and to be honest it’s getting annoying.”

With tears stinging my eyes, I immediately pull Katie into a huge hug, which she returns, squeezing me tightly. “I love you so much.” She whispers, as we both start crying in each others arms, and the other girls comfort us as best they can. I was worrying for nothing. Katie was right: our bond is unbreakable, regardless of where we live, and who we’re with. 

Whatever happens, she’ll always be my sister, and my best friend.

~~~

The Next Day: Wedding Day.

Small lines of sunlight come through the windows and into the room. The room is silent, aside from a few snores and the occasional mumbling as the girls turn in their sleep. Soon however, the peace is shattered with an excited squeal.

“I’M GETTING MARRIED TODAY!”

[merakimousumi]

The Great Blackhole - My own Eulogy

I found it fascinating a decade ago. I read a book where the author asked to write one's own eulogy. It is a piece which is seen from the last point of your life. Even my current teacher says " Make your end vision the start point of your life and conduct your life with that view"

"यथा दृष्टि तथा सृष्टि" so here I am reviewing my life by writing my own eulogy. What I share here is a small trailer and not the complete story.

The afterlife has been a subject of great interest whosoever have ever been born on earth. The continuous intruding curiosity on the subject can be drawn parallel to that of the blackhole in the Universe. The logical scientific world has been trying to break this down for a century now. Science requires evidence of the theory, seeing(physically) is only believing. Since 1915 Einstein mentioned this space ( remember there was no great telescope or any modern gadgets technology that was present in those days) he shared the theory of Black Hole. He mentioned everything gets drawn to that space never returns back, the gravitational pull is so strong. In 2021 , the evolved Science is still grappling to get more details what happens after it enters that space, where does it go , does it enter another dimension , innumerous questions !! The scientist studying the sound captured the vibrations of the star just before it was entering the blackhole, it sounded like a drum of dance and after a moment there was a complete silence. This image of the blackhole was the first real image by a group of scientists who took a decade of preparation and another year to assimilate the images captured across the world at the same time from different angles. When I looked at it , I thought it was a Sufi who is Swirling engrossed in Love of what he would perceive as GOD or Universe. In spiritual and religious teaching this space is called "SHUNYA", described thousands of years ago. This makes me wonder about the level of consciousness of the great Sages and teachers. I was neither a sage nor a great master , being simple I understood that space through a simple lifecycle of a dragonfly.( That is a story for another day)

What gets revealed is the one seen in presence of light and what is Unseen is the eternity ,it is not dark it is just the absence of light. The great mystery and let it be a mystery only !!

As a lover of Science and of Spirituality I am named by Eulogy as " The Great Blackhole". The swirls that my life did before entering this space which I call " SHIVA".

EULOGY - Seeing from the light :

Finally , I am heading Home. The great journey on Earth just got concluded . As I review the life I hear a music - " What a fantastic journey, intertwined by so many stories, lived so many life in one life". I am leaving filled myself with joyfulness and love the only things I came with. The dream of dreams in the dream.

Instead of giving the complete details of the eulogy, let me give you the trailers of my life on only two aspects - Relationships and Wealth.

Seeing the Relationships aspect - The birth of the dreams in the eyes died very early because I dreamt very small. I was meant to dream big, bigger than I could imagine. I believed that love is filled by others and I compliment them. My love was for small circle because I never knew the world. As I opened myself my own love dried like desert water. This was the beginning of breaking the illusions of my life. I kept digging deep within till I found my own fountain and slowly filled myself with the water of love, over the period it became a big flowing lake, pristine in colour as clear as crystals . My love was so fresh and pure it attracted everyone( all beings including the invisible one) from all walks of life , few sat for a while, few stayed forever and few flowed away and came again and again. I was meant to give and receive love from multiple beings this life when I thought my love is for only very few !! Ahhh!! , thank God my dream of childhood did not come true. My teacher in the lifetime would always quote " If it happens as you wished it is good, if it does not happen it is just a master stroke of miracle".

Indeed !! I nod my head.

Seeing the truth behind the Vitamin M - Oh money or Oh Money , appears to be the center of the Universe of mankind. Human being was born with one monkey which was the mind and soon we dropped the "K" thinking we have evolved and thus came the money !!! I use to call it Vitamin M. Vitamin is taken in small quantity , it acts as catalyst in our body to function better and fulfill the deficiencies if any , it does not have an independent function on its own. When taken without limit, it becomes poison. This exactly was my situation. The secret is to keep that Vitamin M as catalyst and focus on the Grand Overall Design of life. Thinking about Money does not make money. Plus , beyond money is something called wealth and money is only an aspect in it. Since I took zillions of photographs( there is a great website of my best photo shoots collection) I can share, we miss the picture when we we focus only on one object, everything becomes blurs around !!

After the realization (shared by my teachers in the lifetime, I did not get it many times) , I started looking into the walls that I had built within me which actually stopped the creator's creation to enter. I became RIGPA , the open space where there is nothing that can obstruct the wealth.

I created so much wealth in every form possible in my lifetime that not once I had to look or think for an iota of seconds before writing a cheque for a cause which was close to my heart. The flow of income and wealth came from sources I never knew it was available. I do not quantify my Vit M with labels of millionaire or billionaire or zillionaire, I always had enough and more. I had the access to the fountain of creation which was endless, creating from the point of Love. I leave this information also as legacy to you all.

I am now about to ring the grand bell of the door of my Home, I could hear the excitement inside already , ready to celebrate my home coming, I am leaving you all with my trademark big smile and twinkling eyes saying - Thank you, I love you . We shall meet again.

- Mousumi