#it's always with the analyzing & the judging & the internal note taking

[pa-pa-plasma]

okay i just marathoned the entirety of ATLA live action & i might do an actual review of it explaining my thoughts more in depth, but the TLDR version basically boils down to this:

if you want to watch Avatar: The Last Airbender, just go watch the 2005 cartoon

[badaziraphaletakes]

It’s not necessarily a fully bad Aziraphale take but I feel like the ‘other who can’t admit their queer’ is pointed at him

Thanks for the submission @gretinternetllama

Well, they ain't talking about Crowley 💀 LMAO

This is the most privileged, out-of-touch Aziracrow take I have ever seen. If you think the most painful queer trope is “one of them’s scared to admit they’re queer”, then fuck you and the horse you rode in on.

The most painful queer “trope”, BY DEFINITION, is “one or both of them will be violently killed if they openly acknowledge their love”. Like Aziracrow. Like Castiel. (The tragedy of that isn’t that Dean didn’t love him that way. It’s that Castiel DIED for saying he loved him, lmao. It is so insulting to Castiel to suggest that the worst thing that happened to him is not having Dean’s love.) Like the overwhelming majority of queer people throughout human history. Because THAT IS THE DEFINITIVE TRAGEDY OF THE ENTIRE QUEER EXPERIENCE.

Fuck anyone who thinks that not being willing to openly acknowledge your love for your partner because you know it can never go anywhere BECAUSE YOU’LL BOTH BE KILLED FOR IT is internalized homophobia. (I can hear the gays in Russia laughing rn.)

Having said that, though, let’s take a look at the way OP analyzes “internalized homophobia”, because there is PLENTY to be concerned about there as well.

The “can’t *even* ‘bring themselves’ to admit they’re queer” is DISGUSTING. Fuck this person’s judgmental tone. God, the more I read this the angrier I get. (If they’d written a post saying “I feel so bad that Aziraphale is losing his chance at a relationship with Crowley because of his internalized homophobia; that must be so hard”, that would be one thing. They’d still be dead wrong, lol, but at least this take wouldn’t be bigoted crap. But that’s not, remotely, what they said. There is no sympathy or understanding on offer for Aziraphale whatsoever.) NO ONE has the right to judge someone for not being ready to accept that they’re queer. It is NEVER their fault. It is ALWAYS the fault of the disgusting homophobia and queer phobia of our society at large.

And also fuck anyone who judges someone for rejecting another person’s romantic advances. It’s literally never any of our business why they do that. (This is giving me flashbacks to the 2010’s Phantom of the Opera fandom. And that is NOT A GOOD THING, lmao.) Romantic rejection, even for a depressing reason like this, is not the tragedy people seem to think. No one needs to be with any one particular person in order to be happy. This whole thing is giving “oh, the poor person whose love interest won’t date them”.

Move on and find someone who will date you. Plenty more fish in the sea.

I'd say it's actually a lot more tragic for the closeted person, who has probably missed out on a lot of other relationships for the same reason and is hurting very deeply. But again, does OP have any compassion to spare for the characters they've labeled as closeted? Nah.

(Side note: If you can’t bear to date someone who’s in the closet, DON’T DATE THEM! It’s that simple. And for the love of GOD don’t pressure them to come out or blame them for not being willing to do so.)

Also. This whole thing is giving faint vibes of the putting-your-hands-over-your-ears, “la-la-la-if-I-ignore-your-problems-they’ll-just-go-away”, “if you come out, everything will be fine and everyone will magically accept you” trope, which is offensive, harmful, privileged, dangerous bullshit. Love does not always conquer all. Love does not always make everything magically okay.

(When it comes to Aziracrow in particular, it is also VERY MUCH reminiscent of the belief that once victims leave their ab*sers, their ab*sers will leave them alone, which is the POLAR OPPOSITE of what actually happens in those situations.)

The most ridiculous part out of all of this, though, has got to be mentioning Johnlock. 🤣🤣🤣 Um, which one of those two is supposed to be flamboyantly queer, exactly? Lol that’s just sad. We have better queer representation now. Come on.

Not to mention, Sherlock and John’s relationship/friendship/situationship/whatever the fuck we were supposed to think that was, was horrendously toxic. Nothing about the way they behave to each other is “loving”. Sherlock is a terrible person (and istg if I hear ONE SINGLE PERSON try to say it’s not his fault because of “mental illness” or some ableist bullshit like that, I will come after you with an axe) and not a suitable partner for anyone unless he does some seeeerious work on himself. Even supposing John is in love with Sherlcok, he has EVERY REASON IN THE WORLD not to want to date him - and it has fuck-all to do with shame (more flashbacks to the 2010’s Phantom of the Opera fandom lol).

Also... I thought we'd all collectively agreed to move on from Sherlock because it's horrendously anti-Autistic and queerbaity and Cummerbund Bumpersnatch is a vile ableist stain upon the face of humanity whose name I will not utter? Did I miss something lol?

To the next person to demean Good Omens and the precious, beautiful relationship between Aziracrow by lumping it in with crap like 'Sherlock' - we meet at the dueling grounds at dawn.

One final thing to add: Crowley doesn’t want to “scream their love from the rooftops”????? Because he also knows they’ll be killed or worse if they do that??? Canon Crowley is a FAR better person and a far more loving partner than willfully oblivious, damn-the-torpedos fanon Crowley. I wouldn't like this show if Crowley "wanted to scream their love from the rooftops".

There’s a LOT more that should probably be said about this, but my thumbs are tired and my heart is tireder still.

[minhanh06]

CTS A | Week 1 - What is Critical Thinking?

✨ My understanding of Critical thinking before and after class: 

It's quite interesting as we utilize it so seamlessly that it often goes unnoticed. Little me was so wrong to think that everybody could do this with ease. However, surely nobody is perfect.

Now, I can confidently say I understand critical thinking and can teach others to apply it personally. It’s not just for work or school but also for daily life. Critical thinking helps us analyze, judge, and communicate effectively, which is essential when working with others.

✨ What I learned about mindfulness: 

Honestly, I used to overlook this aspect of life. I was aware of mindfulness but failed to keep in touch with it regularly. As a typical Gen Z (especially in a Tiger Asian family), I was always eager to dive into tasks without considering my own emotions, even ignoring my mental health.

As we know, mindfulness is being aware of our internal state, our own space, and our surroundings. To be fully mindful of my studying environment, I have tried to be 100% engaged in my studies and take regular breaks. I think trying to keep a non-judgmental opinion about my work is quite hard. Still, I am improving it slowly because pushing oneself too harshly will not solve any problems.

"When you don't put enough pressure on a pencil it won't draw But if you apply too much pressure it will break" (John Assaraf)

✨ An eventful moment in class: 

The eventful moment off the top of my mind was when Shawn and our whole class shared our personal ambitions and life goals. Hearing Shawn's story of his work life and how he became a wonderful and talented teacher is mind-blowing. We also wrote tiny notes for our future selves, which was pretty cute. I think writing that down will nourish the flame of passion within everyone present at that moment.

I always look forward to seeing Shawn and my classmates again during CTA every week. It is an eye-opening class with such a fresh atmosphere.

(270 words)

Works cited and referenced: Assaraf, John. The Answer: Grow Any Business, Achieve Any Goal, and Live an Extraordinary Life. Simon & Schuster, 2007.

A meditation to enjoy alone time, Headspace: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Ob1sWh9u2I

[ill-be-istj-if-no-one-else-is]

Hey there! Recently, I’ve become confused as to which MBTI type I might be, and I was wondering if you’d be willing to help me out. I’ve taken several online tests (including the notorious 16Personalities) and they’ve all given me different results. I’ve gotten INTJ, ISTJ, INTP, and ISTP. I’ve tried typing myself and ended up with INTP, but these results (and the fact that I’m new to the “typing yourself” journey), make me reluctant to choose a definite answer. Here’s some stuff about me that may help:

Almost everything I do is internal: I think before I speak/act, I analyze situations and the steps to take to resolve conflicts, I daydream, I reflect, etc.

Back in highschool, I had a bit of trouble understanding people’s emotions, and because of what highschool taught me (No, not the Pythagorean Theorem), I started to look into their motives. What made them tick? Why did they do [insert unwise action here to make a situation worse than it should have been here] when the right answer/course of action was in front of them the whole time?

I often choose the unconventional over the conventional; I tend to stay away from what’s considered to be the “norm”, and choose things that I think are cool

I am self-aware… SO self-aware that it breaks my immersion of facing reality and it often makes me feel alienated from society

I often take my time with absorbing new information. Whether that be a joke or profound statement that someone would make. I would take minutes, hours, days, months, even years! And then when I finally understand, I go, “OHHHHH!!! Hahahaha! Ahahaha… I get it now…”

I am most definitely an introvert, I like talking to people and like it even better if I’m talking one on one with a person and they truly understand what I’m saying. At the same time, I like going home and “recharging” by drawing, listening to music, and/or playing video games.

I got diagnosed with social anxiety (or GAD, I don’t remember) by my highschool social worker and I do believe that it affects my results when I get asked “Do you always think of the worse case scenario?” on personality tests. I am aware that anxiety isn’t a personality, hence why it bothers me when I am asked those type of questions. I won’t get too into it, but my anxiety causes me to dissociate, avoid eye contact, possess short term memory loss, and feel like I can’t breathe. But I’m working towards getting better!

When outside and while walking somewhere, I’m aware of my surroundings, the people, available exits, etc. But when I’m idle or sitting at a restaurant somewhere, my mind tends to drift off and I daydream about random scenarios.

I like to write things down (for fun or just because I forget things lol) in my notes app on my phone. Stuff ranging from my dreams, my thoughts, my fears, work days, things I have to do, etc.

I like to have things figured out and structured, but I’m not afraid to “go with the flow” with things, since we never truly know if things are going to work out well for us or not. Though, I do hate last minute plan changes.

I do tend to space out at times when I talk to people, which I do feel bad for…

I am able to express my opinions with people and I’m not afraid to disagree with them. I don’t like FULLY fledged arguments though, and I share my point of view if the situation calls for it.

I like to be independent and do things on my own. I get annoyed when people insist on doing things their way and show me how to do it the way they want. For example, doing chores or cooking, and family members come in and insist I’m doing things wrong because I’m not doing it their way.

In the end, I’m mostly confused about the N/S and J/P spectrums. That’s all I’ve got though! If you need any clarifications on anything, feel free to hunt me down.

Hi anon,

I would recommend checking out the FAQ for clarification on intuition, sensing, and what judging and perceiving mean and then if you have more specific questions, feel free to follow up. I'm not sure if you are familiar with the functions and I think that will help if you're not.

A lot of this is fairly hard to type, and tests are, unfortunately, mostly useless. Some of the things here fall fully outside MBTI (eg, clinical anxiety) and others are just kind of things most people do (ie, being more aware of their surroundings at times when they are changing and more immediately relevant). A lot of this also seems fairly balanced, if that makes sense, which is true to life but it's helpful to provide information that is heavily skewed towards one behavior or another.

I do think that it's fair to say you're probably an introvert. I am also guessing, via your preference for the unconventional, your statement about self-awareness, and the anecdote about wanting to do things your way, that you are an Fi dom. I lean a bit more towards Ne given what you said both about the internal nature of your thoughts and the fact that it takes you a very long time to process information, so that would make you an INFP. I'd recommend looking into that and seeing if that fits.

[nutty1005]

Uniquely Him – Xiao Zhan: The biggest monster to defeat is himself

Translator’s Note: This article comes from ELLE Magazine 2019 Jan Issue.

He learned drawing since elementary school, drawing planets and monsters were his obsession, firmly believing in the existence of aliens. As a lively, vivid and exemplary person, he radiates a sense of security from someone dependable, and yet he has a worldly wisdom of one who knows the ways of the world but prefers not to practice it. 

He learned drawing since young, drawing planets and monsters were his obsession. When he watched Martians in movies as a child, his wild imagination gave him a battle with monsters. At that time, he was a boy who was especially fascinated with space, and believed firmly that aliens existed. When he saw news on UFOs, he was excited, curious, but also afraid – would the aliens be friendly with us?

After he read “The Three-Body Problem”, this feeling grew stronger. While exclaiming the broadness of the author’s imagination and how grand the universe is, he researched on the theories and explanations in the novel, as well as on astronomy. Xiao Zhan also imagined how the subjects in “The Three-Body Problem” would look like, “looks like an engineer, perhaps he wears spectacles, he must have a highly progressed mind, great mechanical skills, but probably useless in everyday life, just like Sheldon in ‘The Big Bang Theory’.”

The cruel logic behind all the glitz

Seated in front of the window in the hotel room, his long narrow eyes, puffy and red, Xiao Zhan just finished a day’s filming, and was accepting our interview in a layer of thick winter coat. His attitude was polite, and all around him was the vividness of youth – this made a huge impression.

He had his own studio when he was in year 2 of university, and became a designer after graduating – exemplary student Xiao Zhan’s most glorious moment was being able to design logos in projects with his seniors while he was still an intern, and the client eventually chose his design. Life as a designer lasted until 2015 – his university teacher recommended him to participate in “X-Fire” (TN: A talent search variety show) and he debuted, and since then, his life went onto a different track, becoming one of the hottest idols currently.

Actually, the challenge of becoming an artist is not much different from fighting monsters – since you receive flowers and applause, you would also receive gossip and rumors. His life had been smooth sailing till this, and this confused him for a while, “When the competition ended, there was some dissenting voices, I didn’t quite understand then. Now I’m more at peace, because when you choose a career, you need to learn to accept it. People will like you, and there will be people who won’t.”

However, the cruel logic behind all the glitz was something he could not have imagined. “Audiences do not see what you’ve experienced along the way, they would only judge you based on the final results.” He was filming his first period movie, being outdoors in the mountains at -10°C+ was a daily norm, “We’re filming by the river, everyday we could see the ice slowly form up, today the river is totally frozen, we could walk on it. Basically after every scene I have to cover my face with a warm water bag, otherwise my face would be numb from the cold and become uncontrollable.” And because today there was a scene to scream and shout, Xiao Zhan’s voice was already hoarse.

Xiao Zhan could overcome all this suffering and exhaustion well, the biggest monster he wanted to fight were his self imposed restrictions. “Just now I was thinking while doing make-up, that actually celebrities are like a product, packaged by make-up and styles in order to polish this product. I will bring forth my best to my audiences, but yet I don’t want to over package myself, the real me needs to be in it. I wish that everyone, while accepting my glorious exterior as a celebrity, would also accept my flaws and quirks, since after all, I am a vivid person.”

This sincerity and clarity is where Xiao Zhan’s wisdom lies.

“There is no grandiose in my life”

2018 is the year of rapid growth for Xiao Zhan, he had main roles in various dramas, such as “The Wolf”, “Joy of Life”, “The Untamed”, etc – honing his acting and radiating his presence.

As the lead actor in “The Untamed”, Xiao Zhan’s load was heavy and his filming schedule was tight – filming under the ceaseless summer heat in Hengdian, his mind was always tense. The temperatures in the set was as high as 50°C, the make-up could not stay on, and he filmed most scenes barefaced. The most unforgettable scene was a crying scene – Wei Wuxian, portrayed by Xiao Zhan, had an explosive emotional scene after the massacre of the Jiang family. This scene started filming in the morning, he and Jiang Yanli started crying since 7 a.m. and after they were done, their eyes were as swollen as that of goldfishes. Before this, he was filming “The Wolf” – he systematically took performance classes and grew rapidly in during the filming. “Familiar set and environment, learning to adjust to the nerves and tension, especially since there were hundreds of people servicing you on set, you can do no mistakes.” Xiao Zhan radiates this sense of security from someone dependable. “The Wolf” was his first time as a main supporting role, and he was under tremendous pressure during that period, he often dreamed of acting on set. After every scene he would request for everyone to provide feedback, and then he would learn continuously, analyze and quickly adjust.

After that he had his first cat of his life, a munchkin named Jianguo (TN: Jianguo means nut). After the performance teacher learned about this, one of the homework he gave Xiao Zhan was for him to observe his cat. As a cat-lover, he reveled in the it, “I found out some things that I overlooked, like you will find out that when she’s angry, affectionate or hungry her expression and calls are different.” Xiao Zhan was exceptionally loving to his cat – the first thing he did when after a day’s work was to go home and play with his cat. His private life was quiet and simple, he just stays at home. “The feeling of staying at home is like falling into a cloud, you could roll around as you like, there is no pressure.”

“There is no grandiose in my life.” This was what he felt that gave people the sense of security. His parents, while supportive of his career, were also worried, hence Xiao Zhan often communicated with them, sharing his career successes, helping them be at ease.

In the whole conversation, Xiao Zhan had the purity and enthusiasm belonging uniquely to a youth, and there was this sense of extraordinary realness in him. “Whether or not I want to be an idol, I don’t actually have a choice, the label of an idol is already on me, just that I want to slowly shed off the label of an idol, and become an actor accepted by audiences, so that they can see more of my inner self.”

“I especially dislike public proclamations, you have to pace your life.”

ELLE: What type of boyfriend do you think you are? XZ: I am the boyfriend who is more considerate of the other person, if there were to be my other half in the future, when she’s busy, upset or happy, or wants me to do something, I’ll try to accompany her the way she likes it.

ELLE: Are you the gentle puppy type of boyfriend? XZ: There’s definitely a dominating side, but if you were to be dominating everyday, how do you live? When you have the other half, the most important things are responsibility and trust. (After having a cat, do you think you’re a good dad?) I feel yes, from taking care of my cat.

ELLE: What type of girls do you most want to date? XZ: In many interviews before I spoke about warm, gentle and family-loving girls, but I feel that it still comes down to chemistry, and this is something unpredictable.

ELLE: If you are currently dating a girl, how would you hope to spend Valentine’s Day? XZ: Stay at home, and cook together. There’s a phrase about when you love the right person, every day’s Valentine’s Day, why do you have to spend that day in the crowd with everyone. Being an artist is quite particular, and quite tiring, I have to go back to live my life. If everyday has to be vigorous and stirring, there’s no way to live. No one can act everyday, I especially dislike public proclamations, I feel that you have to pace your life.

ELLE: If we give you a holiday now, what would you do? XZ: Go home and rest, with my parents, and then play with my cat.

ELLE: Are you a typical Libra? XZ: I don’t think so, I don’t have difficulties in choosing, when I spot something I want to buy, I’ll just buy. But sometimes I’ll be stuck in things that I care about, for example the scene I did today, if I’m not satisfied with it, I will think about it from morning till night, and annoy the others around me with my nagging.

[anastasiaskarsgard]

Digging the knife in deeper with Merkel! 😩😭 thank you and you’ve made me hungry for more!

I’m totally down to write the Merkel and Nicole hot mess express.

“Hey Nicole! Boss wants to see you in his office.” The new red head said as she made her way down the stairs.

Judging by her messy hair and smeared make up, it looked like he had already got his rocks off. Nicole watched the girl as she attempted to straighten her clothing, and couldn’t help but notice how young she looked. The girl was tall and curvy, but the way she carried herself made her just seem awkward. Like the giraffe at the zoo, when it was learning to walk.

Noticing she was being watched, the girl attempted a dirty look, that just came across as funny to nicole. “What’s your name new girl? I’m Nicole. No need to get defensive, us girls gotta stick together.”

The girls face flashed between confusion and fear, and she looked around before saying “my name is Anna, but I’m supposed to say it’s Roxy.”

“Well my real name is Nicole, but the boss likes to name most of the girls to keep them safe from psychos. You never know these days,” Nicole smiled reassuringly. “Well I better go see what he wants.”

The girl tried to smile, but just looked like she might cry. Some of these girls just aren’t cut out for this type of lifestyle, Nicole thought as she made her way up the stairs. She made a mental note to ask about the girl, if the boss was in a good mood.

Coming to the landing, she was met by the Big Mikes. They were the security for the boss most of the time. She’d known them for years and they never talked much or smiled. It only added to their intimidating presence. Both men were at least 6’6 and built like Mac trucks. If they didn’t want someone to get by, they wouldn’t.

Smiling brightly, Nicole winked at one of them as she passed and rapped lightly on the door behind them.

“It better be Nicole!” A stern voice shouted.

Grinning, she opened the door to find her boss, sitting at his desk, looking through some paperwork. Walking over to the chair facing him, she plopped down and waited for him to speak.

She always was amazed how he always looked so neat and composed. Not a hair out of place, a wrinkle in his clothing, or the signs of his sexual prowess was ever present. If she hadn’t seen the state the girl that just came out of his office has been in, she’d never know he’d done anything besides what he did now. She knew all too well that wasn’t the case tho.

“Why am I hearing stories about you and the new pretty boy?” He asked, still not looking up.

“Well hello to you too.” She said sarcastically.

Snapping his eyes up at her, she was taken aback by the anger she found there. She wasn’t sure why he’d care Who she talked to considering he fucked every girl that walked through the place. Sure, she was the only one he fucked more than once or twice, but she hardly thought they were in any sort of relationship. Seeing his facial expression only harden even further, she chuckled uncomfortably and tried to make her face look at ease. “You know how people like to make up shit to make their day go by quicker. I ran into him in the hallway when he was racing out his brothers office. Looked like they were fighting so I tried to make a joke is all.”

He considered her words as he analyzed her for any signs of deception. Finding none, he smiled and shook his head. “I guess I’m just possessive over you doll. You know how it is right? All the girls are falling all over themselves over the guy, which doesn’t bother me, but when I heard you were one of them...”

“You ever see me fall all over anything?” She interrupted, cocking an eyebrow. “I ain’t looking for some pretty boy douche bag, trying to fuck anything that gives him a second glance.” Rising to her feet, she put one hand on her hip, expectantly. “Anything else?”

“No baby. Just keep your distance from that guy. You’re the only girl I give a fuck about in the whole world. The rest of these broads are a joke at best.”

Nicole’s stomach turned, but she giggled and bounced out of his office. Closing the door, she took a deep breath and made her way past the Mikes. She felt like she was going to have a panic attack.

In all the years she’d been around, she’d always thought she was just like all the other girls. Eventhough she was never sent to satisfy clients or made a spectacle of for big wigs, she still had to drop to her knees or bend over whenever the boss demanded it. He paid for everything from her car, to her rent and utilities, and provided her an allowance as well so she was just a personal prostitute in her mind. That seemed safer for some reason. She also didn’t know where he got off thinking he could cheat on her all the time, but still consider her to be his.

Glancing at her new Rolex she’d been gifted for her birthday, she wondered what time Merkel got in. Deciding to ask Tony, she made her way towards the bar, since they both seemed to hang out there a lot. Making her way across the club, she tried to spot either of the tall brothers, but found neither of them. It was still pretty slow, so they’d be easy to spot.

Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted what looked like Merkel, leaving out a side door. Scurrying to catch up, she ran out into the alley to find him there leaned against the wall, smoking a cigarette.

Embarrassed by her obvious haste to catch him, she blushed and looked down sheepishly, before looking back up at him through her lashes. She had this whole routine down, and knew exactly how to look the most attractive and alluring. If she’d captured her boss’s heart, maybe she could capture this guy as well. Not thinking too far into the Possible consequences of playing games with dangerous men’s hearts, she smirked when he grabbed her belt loop and pulled her close.

“Where’s the fire?” He growled lowly, as he turned her to face him.

She knew he was trying to be sexy, and he really was doing a great job, but she couldn’t help herself. “My pants.” She looked up to his face, already starting to fall into a giggle fit. The confused look on his face only added fuel to the fire, and before she knew it, she could barely breathe. “Oh my god! Your face! I wish you could see your face!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Merkel had found out earlier that day that this operation was going to be cleansed in two days. He wasn’t a cleaner, so he didn’t ever really think about what they did. He was the intel. He was good at gaining people’s trust or that wasn’t the right word. He was good at being unthreatening and unassuming.

Being a pretty boy, man whore, that no one took seriously and thought was dumb, was the best way to be if your goal was gathering information. It would blow their minds if they knew he was a computer genius, that spoke 11 languages fluently and had a photographic memory.

The higher ups wanted his files on all the key players, and who he thought were the victims. He knew if they had called for A cleaning crew, then anyone he put on that list as a key player was as good as dead. The victims would go wherever they went and he’d get a month off between jobs. He usually looked forward to moving on, but this time was different.

Nicole wasn’t a key player as far as he could see. She also wasn’t a victim, or one of the prostitutes. She appeared to just be the boss’ favorite. Almost like a pet. A sugar baby maybe. Whatever she was, he was going to have to trust her, to save her. He knew he was taking a huge risk and being an idiot, but he couldn’t get that kiss in the hallway out of his head.

Never in his life had he ever gotten completely lost in a person as he did when they kissed. He was trained to never let his guard down, and always be aware of your surroundings, but when her lips met his, it was like the world disappeared. He knew in his gut that she had been affected just as much as he had, and he knew this wasn’t just lust. He knew lust and this wasn’t it. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he wanted to find out.

As if she knew he was thinking about her, she appeared before him as she hastily made her way out the door. Stumbling to a stop, and turning the cutest shade of red, she looked down and bit her lip. When she looked back up at him, his stomach flipped. Suppressing a laugh at his own behavior, he focused on examining the beauty before him and trying to play it cool.

“Where’s the fire?” He said as he dragged her closer to him by her belt loop.

Her eyes flashed mischievously, and she was already grinning ear to ear as she stated, “my pants.” Busting out into a fit of giggles, Merkel couldn’t help but smile too.

He’d never seen a more beautiful girl. He knew he had to save her from her likely fate. There was no safe way to do this, and he knew she could turn around and get him killed for trying to help her but as he listened to her bell like laugh, he decided she was worth it.

“Oh my god! Your face! I wish you could see your face!” She beamed up at him.

“Let’s get out of here.” He said in her ear, flicking his cigarette away.

“What? Where would we go? What would we do? Don’t you have work?”

“Fuck it. We’d leave here and never look back. Run away with me. Leave all this shit behind.” He smiled warmly and pressed his body into hers.

Nicole stepped back, getting serious real quick. Looking for the joke on his face and finding none, she just stared at him waiting for him to say something. Unfortunately he just stared right back. “Are you serious?” She whispered.

“Why are we whispering now? Yes I’m serious.” His face returned to the stoic mask he normally wore. Internally he was tripping, but externally he looked cool as a cucumber. “You trust me?”

“You’re crazy,” she muttered.

“That’s beside the point.” He chuckled half heartedly and suddenly looked very vulnerable. Nicole creased her eyebrows, bewildered by the normally stoic mans emotions clear on his face.

“Should I -“

“Look I’m going to just be honest. Fuck!” He looked down a beat, before looking her dead in the eye. “If you don’t come away with me now, you won’t make it past tomorrow. A bigger organization than your boss is involved in, has decided that he and everyone close to him needs to go. For good.”

“But your brother...” she cried, his words setting her heart racing.

“He’s not my brother. Everything you know about me is a lie. Everything except this.” Grabbing her face, he crashed his lips into hers, hoping she wouldn’t push him away....

When she wrapped her arms around his neck and returned his kiss, he was shocked at how elated he instantly became. She was his. He’d protect her and keep her safe. She needed him and for some reason he needed her too. When she jumped up and wrapped her legs around his waist, he moaned into her mouth. “You’re such a good girl. Nothing and no one will ever hurt you. I’ll protect you from everything.”

“You promise?” She breathed into his mouth, as she grinned her core on his already rock hard arousal.

“You trying to get fucked right here in the alley? You keep that up and I’m...” he cut off his own sentence with a passionate kiss to her lips once more.

[lethargicsunlight]

'Demon' Chapter 3 : For The Mission Bakugou x Fem!Reader (book 1)

Hello~

First of all, Thank you for reading!

You can also read this chapter and the previous ones here on my AO3.

Or, you can find the previous chapter here.

I will come up with a better linking system soon, but I gotta get back to work real quick :(

WARNINGS: Injury, bodily fluids, angst, SFW

Please enjoy!

👹🖤⛓🔪💣

You knew running was a losing game, as speedy as you could be. He was saving his energy by using his mutation quirk for movement.

You pull loose a throwing knife from the holster on your side, keeping the blade bared outward to defend yourself as you take in your blurring surroundings. You make a turn, decidedly veering away from the direction of the bar you'd just left; the last thing you needed was for your pursuer to call in reinforcements that could teleport.

Despite sliding through sharp turns, you couldn't manage to get far enough ahead to fake him out. With the tough exoskeleton they possessed, he was easily driving his extra limbs into the walls and using them as leverage to fling himself forward--closing in on you much faster than you wanted.

"What is it little Demon?" He screeches, mandibles scratching and gnawing together as his mouth stretches open. "I thought you would be a much more riveting opponent than this!"

...Sometimes, you gotta give them what they want.

Mid-run, you locate a window going into an abandoned office building. Throwing your knife, it punctures the glass and leaves hair-line fractures across the surface--you can see the reflection of Sting's eyes within the shards as you thrust your weight into the opening.

In a circular motion, you manage to unsheathe one of the longer blades at your back and parry  his limbs in the air before you're tumbling over the broken glass. It hurts, but you don't allow yourself to slow down. You roll back up, unsheathing the second blade with your free-hand as you crouch, ready to strike.

Now you at least had one advantage over him. More cover.

"Heh," he seems to hesitate, finally setting his body back upon solid ground as he evaluates you. His gaze is filled with confidence after watching you run away from him. Like prey.  In his pause, you have a few seconds to analyze his structure. The exoskeleton would to be too hard to cut, so your focus had to be the areas you could see flesh exposed. You were aware the legs could retreat into his back, which guaranteed a lack of access there. All you could see was his face and his hands--though peaking out from beneath a tucked scarf, was the smooth skin of a throat.

You had made an oath long ago that you would never kill again. But in defense of your mission... you could manage an exception. It would all be over soon anyway.

Instead of coming at you straight on, he throws another knife at you to get everything back into motion. It has you leaping backwards unto a filing cabinet--and he's charging at you finally with the ferocity of essentially four swords. Due to his extra limbs' reach, you realize you won't get a hit on him this way.

It becomes a tangle of blades as you parry and block and twist around his advances, kicking up papers and folders to distract him as you move up and down over obstacles. The venom in your arm begins to dance through your veins, tingling beneath the skin--you are running out of time.

You can see his face twist into a smile; he's sure he's going to win.

Good.

As he makes the mistake you were waiting for, drawing one of his limbs back for a final attack; his mouth is open to announce his triumph. As the air begins to leave his lungs and form syllables in his mouth, time slows down for you. Your blade held up to parry drops from your hand, sending his stinger forward to scrap across your shoulder; close but not too close to your neck. You grab the knife on his belt that you had been eyeing since his first advance in the alleyway, and slice through the joint.

It brings him to a halt, howling as he moves backwards. Green ichor sprays across your face and drips from his new amputation, his other three limbs curling around his body while his hands grope his shoulders.

You pocket his knife and retrieve your blade from the floor.

"Noo! Nonono..!" He's wailing--it sounds grief-stricken now. While there were questionable 'doctors' among villain society; no one has the ability to bring back a limb. Especially one like that. You had mired him, for the rest of his life.

You prepare for a death blow--but the flash of skin beneath the fabric of his shirt causes your hesitation.

You don't have to kill him. It's relief that floods through your tense and calculating mind; briefly before being replaced with pain. As you had expected, a minute in and his neurotoxic venom has seeped into the muscles of your arm. It feels like a chemical burn--acid turning flesh to sizzling nothing. The arm goes limp, but you force your grip on the blade--you had to appear stable.

"I'm going--I'm going to kill you!" He screeches, and there's a squeal behind it like the voice of the insect part of him was a separate entity.

"...You can't kill me." You say slowly, approaching with your good arm raised. You swallow, then let your voice drop an octave as fear seeps into his eyes. There's a button you managed to press a moment ago, that makes the eyes glow from your mask. A cerulean color--a color that was a remnant of your past. "I'm not human."

From the look on his face--he believes you. Your charade is working. You grit your teeth, forcing your shaking and screaming arm to lift and move to the back of your head. It's a movement that suggests you'll remove your mask.

"N-No, no!" He shifts back again, and unaware of his surroundings he trips and lands among the broken glass. His remaining extra limbs curl in close to his face, leaving his abdomen bare. "You're lying! You can't steal people's souls, you're just--you're like us!"

"Then why are you hiding your face?"

"Wh--" With the distraction of speech, he doesn't block when you throw the hidden blade from your hood down into his abdomen. It's a solemn thwack, and then the harsher crack of his skull when you flip the blade in your good hand and swing it between his stinging limbs to ram into his bare temple.

He's out. He's internally bleeding, and he'll never be the same... but he'll live. Maybe when he wakes, he'll have a different outlook on life. Or, most likely, he'll want to hunt you down.

You suppose that should scare you. But given the note you had received from the hero agency you worked with, your time was going to end anyway. He wouldn't have a chance.

"Hrk--" You crumple to the ground, clutching the arm that felt like it should be bare bone rather than flesh. It's like the nerves are exposed; the grip from your clothed hand sending shockwaves down your spine.

You couldn't help but brood--seeing as how moving was so difficult--at how opposite this situation had been compared to what it seemed.

While you had delivered a blow based on skill--you won the fight by lying. Like an illusion, you'd expertly hidden behind the smoke and mirrors to make him believe you were bigger than you actually were. Like you had won easily, rather than by the skin of your teeth.

You wheeze, tears pricking at your eyes while you force yourself to rise. You needed to get back to base. Especially before he did, and preferably before anyone decides to investigate the noises of your chase earlier.

You stumble out of the building through the window you had broken, and slowly creep through the alleys of Yokohama once again.

---

Every television in the base was alight with the bright colors of the Sports Festival.

You were pretty sure that H.H. kept cameras within those screens, ever watching the faces of his lackeys and agents--judging their actions and expressions. Another advantage to always wearing a mask.

You stood, back pressed to a wall in the shadow of a corner as you side-eye the screen. Watching the students filter out unto the field causes a bitter-sweet fluttering in your stomach.

You remembered the first time you had watched the event. You were much younger, sitting with your knees pressing into the floor and palms crushing a few stray sheets of paper. Really, you had never been all that interested in television, mostly because the other kids at the foster-care center were rambunctious when they sat in front of it.

But this time, the only two souls whose eyes were glued to the flat surface were yours and your new foster brother's, who had been the one to convince you to watch it in the first place.

"You gotta watch it--I'm gunna be on it one day!" He says, arm extending to offer his hand. You stare at it, bug-eyed.

"Oh," you meagerly utter, taking his hand and letting him lead you. He laughs and pulls you along until your both sitting in the living-room floor.

"Don't worry," he leans in towards you, "I'll keep the volume low. Trust me though, kay? You gotta watch it, it's really fun!"

You don't believe him, but before long you're both cheering with the crowd and talking avidly about your favorite contestants. He--

You draw yourself out of the memory as large letters appear in your peripheral. The first game had been announced. A race.

There was a sinking feeling in your chest to know that he should have been there amongst them, maybe a year ago. There wasn't a doubt in your mind that he would have won. Maybe even every challenge.

Even at that young of an age, he had always been so full of righteous fire.

He could have been a hero of heroes...

If not for you.

----

You catch pieces of the Sports festival as you move through the base in search of an old 'escape plan' map. Head Honcho had certainly made modifications since the water-treatment plant had been adopted as his new lair, but you could draw them out if only you had a layout of the place.

Chemical spills did happen, so you could only hope that the escape plans had been forgotten when everything was moving in. In a storage closet somewhere, on the door of an outlet box, above the water control panel--somewhere.

Moving through an old lounge, large screens portrayed the ongoing of the race that had long-since started above the heads of a few agents. They were newer, but they noticed you when you walked in.

The looks in the eyes of those whose faces were exposed was that of mixed admiration and loathing. But, fortunately for you--Head Honcho had made it very clear that you were to be left alone. Treated as exalted, as though separate from everyone else on a holy level. Not that they worshipped you--but that he wanted you to be considered the entity you played as. A demon.

The rumor was as much to his advantage as it was yours.

Their eyes follow you in the dark as you move around them, but something suddenly has their eyes whipping back to the screen as the closer viewers make noises of surprise. You decide to look too, selfishly; and you're rewarded with something familiar.

A freckled green-haired boy. He's flying through the air after a massive explosion, rivaling the two that had been effortlessly charging towards the finish from the beginning. The three of them are suddenly close together, faces etched in the effort to win--and you find yourself openly admiring them.

Beneath your mask, you're smiling. Your heart is pounding and you want to cheer like old times, throwing popcorn in the air and rejoicing--no matter who won. You could practically feel your foster brother's spirit next to you, tugging on your heart. You should be there, enjoying this. You hear him say.

Your breath catches in your throat as there's another explosion--Midoriya had managed to throw the bit of metal he'd carried with him all this way and use another surge of momentum to carry him forward. Everything stills as you wait, holding that breath until finally--finally--it is him that enters the arena in first place.

Adrenaline explodes and rockets around your ribs and your heart--but you're still. You mouth the word 'yes', but didn't dare utter a syllable. Controlling yourself, you make for the exit of the room, intent now more than ever to carry out your mission. To help ensure the safety of those three boys that fought so hard to be recognized as heroes.

For those three boys that reminded you so much of him.

[thehollowprince]

Civil War Fixit #4

Parts One, Two, and Three (updated for easier browsing)

Notes: sorry for the long wait, but, as many of you know... life happens. Plus, ever since Endgame, I've been less than enthused about this whole universe. My love for Steve has diminished, but I still remember what was and what should have been, so here we go.

I didn't really feel like doing all of the action sequences, because I feel like the most character growth happens in those "In Between" scenes, so this takes place after the Winter Soldier was activated by Zemo and the escape from the CIA facility. It picks up just before the airport battle.

Steve, Sam and Bucky sat silently in the old Beetle, waiting for their reinforcements to show up.

Bucky eventually broke the silence. "So who's the girl?"

"Buck." Steve sighed.

"What?" Bucky asked. "Its a fair question from your old best friend." The super soldier reasoned. "This girl violates a dozen laws, steals our equipment back and you lay one on her. And judging by both of your expressions, that was the first time you two did that."

"Did I ever tell you how creepy it is that you analyze everything now?" Steve rebuttaled.

"No." Bucky plowed forward. "She must be a pretty special girl."

"You've no idea." Sam muttered under his breath.

"Sam." Steve said with a warning in his tone.

"What?" Sam fired back. "She is a special girl. You two spent the last two years dancing around each other and now is when you decide to make a move? When we're wanted criminals?" Sam huffed. "You really do have horrible timing."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, first you kiss Peggy back in the day."

"You and Peggy kissed?" Bucky interrupted.

"Yeah, just before he flew a plane into the Arctic." Sam said.

"And now you finally make a move on Sharon, just before we're going to break a whole mess of international laws?" Bucky questioned. "Sam's right, you do have bad timing."

"Oh, and we didn't even get to the part where Sharon is Peggy's niece."

"Sam!" Steve was exasperated.

Bucky, for his part, just looked from Sam to Steve and back again, unsure if this was some kind of joke or not. Thankfully, Steve was saved from any more of this awkward conversation by the arrival of a big, white, serial-killer style van.

"Oh, look, backup's here." Steve said and immediately exited the vehicle to greet the driver, who was none other than Clint Barton.

Bucky stared after his old friend before turning to look at Sam with an incredulous look.  “Her niece?”

“Yeah.” Sam sighed.  “Though, to be fair, we didn’t know that until yesterday.”  He then opened the car door and exited the vehicle.

Outside, Steve approached Clint and shook hands with his old teammate.  “Thanks for coming.”

“Cap.”

“You know I wouldn’t have called if I had any other choice.”

“Hey man, you’re doing me a favor.” Clint waved off Steve’s Steveness.  Behind him, Wanda climbed out of the passenger seat.  “Besides, I owe a debt.”

“Thanks for having my back.” Steve nodded at her.

“It was time to get off my ass.” Wanda replied. Her attention was diverted to behind Steve’s broad shoulders to where Sam was struggling to hold in his laughter, phone in hand as Bucky attempted to navigate his way out of the back seat.  This video would definitely go viral.

“What about our other recruit?”

“He’s rarin’ to go.” Clint answered, walking back to the van and slid the side open, revealing a passed out Scott Lang laying on the seat.  The moment the door was all the way open, rocking the van, Scott jolted awake.  “Had to put a little coffee in him, but...” He looked at Scott, who seemed confused as to where he was.  “... he should be good to go.”

“What time zone are we in?” Scott asked as he yawned and stretched, sliding out of the van to place his feet on solid ground.  He steps forward, ignoring the weird tingles in his legs indicating they were waking up, and immediately accepted the hand presented to him, without really realizing who it was attached to.  That is, until he realized who’s hand he was shaking and just kind of gaped at the man.  “Captain America.”  He looked both amazed and dumbfounded at the same time.

“Mr. Lang.” Steve replied, his hand still in Scott’s grip, but too polite to pull back on his own.

“It’s an honor.” Scott was still shaking Steve’s hand, and only now seemed to realize it.  “I’m shaking your hand way too long.”  Despite saying that, he continued to shake the hand in his grasp.  “Wow, this is awesome!  Captain America.”  He seemed to realize what he was doing and stopped shaking Steve’s hand, looking around him at the other people assembled in a parking garage, his eyes landing on Wanda.  “I know you, too.  You’re great. My daughter loves you.”  Wanda smiled in return as Scott turned back to Steve again, feeling up the super soldier’s epic shoulders.  “Jeez.”

Scott snapped out of his hero-worship and stepped back, hands to himself.

“Ah, look, I wanna say, I know you know a lot of super people, so... thanks for thinking of me.”  He spotted Sam over Steve’s incredibly broad shoulders.  “Hey, man!”

“What’s up, Tic Tac?”

“Uh, about what happened last time...”

“It was a nice audition, but it... it won’t happen again.” Sam said firmly.

“What happened last time?” Steve found himself asking.

“Well, you see, I, uh...” Scott started, only to be interrupted by Sam.

“It’s not important.”

Steve looked between the two, Sam staring firmly at Scott, who looked a bit sheepish.  “... okay?”  He turned back to Scott. “They tell you what we’re up against?”

“Something about... psycho-assassins?” Scott supplied, not sounding entirely sure.

“We're outside the law on this one. So, if you come with us, you're a wanted man.” Steve said, laying everything on the line from the beginning.

“Yeah, well, what else is new?” Scott said with a shrug. 

“We should get going.” Bucky supplied, finally free from the metal death-trap.

“We’ve got a chopper all lined up.” Clint said.

A voice speaking in German sounded over the loud speakers in the garage, with Bucky looking up first, “They’re evacuating the airport.”

“Stark.” Sam said with a sigh.

“Stark?” Scott questioned.

“Suit up.” Steve commanded.

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

Steve, now all suited up in his Captain America uniform, jogged across an eerily vacant tarmac toward the chopper that Clint had pointed out.  His eyes scanned back and forth, knowing that Tony and Rhodey and who knows who else was with them was lurking around here somewhere.  Less than ten meters to the chopper and some sort of electro-doohickey that he didn’t understand landed on the machine, frying the engine and rendering it useless.  Steve skidded to a stop and watched as Tony and Rhodey, Iron Man and War Machine descended from the sky.

“Wow, it's so weird how you run into people at the airport. Don't you think that's weird?” Tony joked, always with the quips, even in a serious situation, because he obviously didn’t know how to read the room... so to speak.

“Definitely weird.” Rhodey agreed, always following Tony’s lead.

“Hear me out, Tony.” Steve interjected, trying to talk sense into his former teammates.  “That doctor, the psychiatrist, he's behind all of this.”

To his left, T’Challa jumped over a parked truck and landed in a crouch before standing up to his full height in his black vibranium suit. “Captain.”

“Your highness.”

“Anyway, Ross gave me 36 hours to bring you in. That was 24 hours ago. Can you help a brother out?” Tony announced, retracting the helmet of his suit so he could talk to Steve face to face.

“We’re not brothers.” Steve countered.  “We’re not even friends.”

“Hmm.” Tony huffed.

“You’re after the wrong guy.” Steve tried to reason with him.

“Your judgment is askew. Your old war buddy killed innocent people yesterday.”

“And there are five more super soldiers just like him.” Steve tried to explain.  “If you would just shut up and listen to me, I could explain.”  Tony’s face darkened.  “I can't let the doctor find them first, Tony. I can't.”

“Steve... you know what’s about to happen.” Rhodey said, retracting his own helmet.  “Do you really want to try and punch your way out of this one?”

“Wait.” Natasha walked up, dolled out in her own tactical gear.  “What do you mean there are five more?”

“Alright, I’ve run out of patience.” Tony said.  “Underoos!”  Steve was obviously confused for a moment, until he saw a shadow flip over him.  His shield was wrenched from his hands, which were suddenly tied together with some kind of material he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to know what it was.  Looking up, he saw a man in a red and blue costume with a web-like pattern, his shield in this person’s hand.  “Nice job, kid.”

“ Thanks. Well, I could've stuck the landing a little better. It's just the new suit… Well, it's nothing, Mr. Stark. It's--it's perfect. Thank you.” Steve’s eyes narrowed the more he listened to this man - this boy - talk.  On Tony’s side, Natasha’s expression was similar.

“Yeah, we don't really need to start a conversation.”

“ Okay. Cap . . . Captain. Big fan, I'm Spider-Man.” He saluted Steve.

“Yeah, we'll talk about it later. Just...”

“Hey, everyone.” Spider-Man waved at the assembled heroes.

“... Good job.” Tony finished.

“You’ve been busy.” Steve said icily, his glare directed solely at Tony.

“And you've been a complete idiot.” Tony fired back.  “Dragging in Clint. 'Rescuing' Wanda from a place she doesn't even want to leave, a safe place.” Steve snorted at that.  “I'm trying to keep . . . I'm trying to keep you from tearing the Avengers apart.”

“You did that when you signed.” Cap retorted.  “And when you dragged in this kid.” He nodded toward Spider-Man.  “How old are you?”

“That’s not important - “ Tony started to say.

“No, that is a good question.” Natasha interrupted.  “How old are you?” She directed her question at Spider-Man.

“I... uh...” Peter wasn’t sure what to do.  The scary redhead was on Tony’s side, but Tony wanted him to stay a secret.

“If he’s over sixteen, you can keep my shield.” Steve interjected.  Now everyone was looking at Tony, with mixed expressions of shock and even outright anger.

“Alright, We're done. You're gonna turn Barnes over, you're gonna come with us. NOW!” Tony was shouting by the end of the sentence. “Because it's us! Or a squad of J-SOC guys... with no compunction about being impolite.”  Steve looks aside, as if he’s deep in thought.  “Come on, man.”

Meanwhile, in Steve’s comms, Sam was talking to him.

“We found the Quinjet.  Hanger five, north runway.”  Steve nodded before holding up his hands, almost looking like he was surrendering.  An arrow pierced the material that bound his hands, freeing them.

“Okay, Lang.” Steve said into his comms.

“Hey, guys, something’s happening.” Spider-Man said, usure of what was going on but sensing something.  He spotted a really tiny man on Captain America’s shield, who quickly turned normal sized and knocked Spider-Man away, before flipping off the truck and handing the shied back to Steve with an exaggerated “I believe this is yours, Captain America.”

Rhodey’s and Tony’s helmets went back up.

“There’s two in the parking deck.” Tony said, using his suit’s enhanced features to spot them.  “One of them’s Maximoff.  I’m gonna grab her.”  Tony started to take off.  “Rhodey, you wanna deal with Cap?”

“Got two in the terminal.” Rhodey said as he also started to rise into the air.  “Wilson and Barnes.”

“Barnes is mine!” T’Challa snarled, immediately racing off in that direction.

“Mr. Stark, what should I do?” Spider-Man asked, sounding more and more like a frightened teenager.

“What we discussed.” Tony snapped over his comms.  “Keep your distance and web ‘em up.”

“Okay, copy that.” Spider-Man leapt off of the ground and produced another of those spider web lines and swung toward the terminal.

The fight was on.

[uwua3]

your name (pt. 3)

❄️📚 tsukiokia tsumugi

part 1 — part 2 — part 3

summary: as tsumugi wakes up, he meets your best friend

warnings: lack of food

author’s note: good day everyone! i hope you enjoy part 3 of my newest series !! ₍₍ ( ๑॔˃̶◡ ˂̶๑॓)◞♡ please have a good rest of your day~! :D tsumugi & tasuku ♡LOVE♡ you!!!

word count: 1,966

Tsumugi woke up.

For once, he felt well rested. That’s when Tsumugi knew something wasn’t right. Rapidly straightening his back, Tsumugi felt like he was living in the past. It seemed as if he was in a classroom, a setting Tsumugi hadn’t seen in quite a long time. Rows of clean desks surrounded him neatly, with students filing in to fill each seat. Tsumugi slowly looked around, the bright sunlight nearly blinding him as a cloudless blue sky greeted him. The chatter of noisy college students became more audible, and Tsumugi felt like he was back on the morning shinkansen. As Tsumugi looked out the window at the small school campus, a hand abruptly ruffled his hair.

“Morning, lazy. You just got here and you’re already tired?” The boy scoffed, but not in a cruel way. It was a manner of speaking that came from being childhood friends, even if Tsumugi had no idea who this man was. Tsumugi cleared his throat, unsure of how to respond before his eyes widened. Just at that slight sound, Tsumugi could tell this wasn’t some dream. And, this wasn’t his body to begin with.

“Hey… wait, you okay?” The man asked, concerned but when he addressed Tsumugi by a new name, Tsumugi could feel his heartbeat in his ears. What was going on? Where was he? Who was he? Who was this student before him? As Tsumugi barely comprehended the situation, the bell rang as the teacher walked in. Immediately, every student stood up to greet the head instructor. The man just talking to Tsumugi pulled him up by the arm, forcing him to bow so he wouldn’t get in trouble. The touch upon his lower back seemed to bring him back to reality, because Tsumugi forced out a polite “Good morning, sensei” in tune with everyone else. As everyone sat back down, the man sat next to Tsumugi with worry apparent in his facial expression.

The man already appeared cross and serious at first glance, but the furrow in his thick black eyebrows was even more alarming. As the professor began lecturing about some subject he had a basic understanding of, a note was expertly slipped onto his desk without another word. Tsumugi could tell the pair had done this more times than they could count. Tsumugi hadn’t, so his fingers were unfamiliar with opening the paper without getting caught.

Meet me on the rooftop after class — Tasuku

Tasuku, Tasuku, Tasuku. Tsumugi read the name over and over again, even after he shot Tasuku a weak thumbs up (he had received a confused look back, but a nod nonetheless). Something about that name rang every alarm inside his head, but then again, it’s not like Tsumugi trusted his gut. Where did he know that name from? It was out of the ordinary for Tsumugi to mindlessly drift off during a lesson, but he couldn’t help it. Tsumugi was silently accepting that this was all too real to be a figment of his wild imagination.

The sound of the harsh eraser ripping paper, furious note-taking with pens, the conversation from other classrooms drifting through the open windows. It was all so much to take in at once. The professor went on as they wrote key points with chalk upon the green board, the loud scratch and clack of the white dust making Tsumugi’s head spin. Tsumugi didn’t even take out his notebook at first, and when he did, he realized this handwriting was not his own. The person’s writing was messy and rushed, like all his other students. It was for a subject Tsumugi didn’t recall that well. Before Tsumugi could read the date of the entry, another hand was placed upon his shoulder. Warily, this time.

“Class is dismissed.” Tasuku stated, as a matter of fact. Tsumugi didn’t have to do much to confirm it was true, as the group of students left for their lunch period. Even the professor was looking at the two, wondering why they were still here. With a flush of embarrassment, Tsumugi quickly grabbed his bag and nodded, unable to speak. Tasuku’s eyebrows raised even higher at this profound silence, but didn’t say another word before tilting his head towards the corridor. Tsumugi had no choice but to follow. What else could Tsumugi do except put all his trust into this random student named Tasuku?

The two walked against the crowd, but no one paid any mind to Tsumugi. That was the joy of college, Tsumugi gratefully remembered. Everyone was always too busy with their own plans that judging others became a hobby only for the privileged. Or, maybe it was the fact Tsumugi’s small frame was already being covered by Tasuku anyways. Tasuku was tall, much taller at this shorter height Tsumugi found himself in. Not only that, but Tasuku was clearly physically fit, with bulging muscles beneath his skin tight soccer shirt. The uniform was designed with unfamiliar school colors, and Tsumugi didn’t recognize the name of the university. However, Tsumugi read the name in bold letters on the back with a sense of recognition.

Takoto #6. Takoto Tasuku. Tsumugi thought of this name over and over again. It wasn’t until Tasuku looked over his shoulder with narrowed eyes that he randomly stopped in the middle of the hallway. Life went on as students simply passed them without sparing a look.

“Did you just say my name?” Tasuku asked, and Tsumugi grew redder realizing he was most likely muttering out loud. Perhaps that reaction wasn’t normal, because Tasuku quickened his pace to the rooftop. Tsumugi attempted to match Tasuku’s steps, but the height difference was staggering. It was clear Tasuku was some big name soccer player with how fast he was. Whoever Tsumugi was, was not that athletic.

Tasuku held open the door as the two made their way up the stairs. Entering the rooftop, Tsumugi could spot a few students here and there eating their packed lunch as the wind carried their conversations away. At this height, Tsumugi could barely see anything except scattered homes and thousands of trees. A little town not too far from here was peeking through on the mountainside, and Tsumugi almost forgot how peaceful a small town was. Tasuku sat down near a net, waiting for Tsumugi to choose a place as well.

This must’ve been some sort of test, because Tasuku was carefully watching him. Naturally, Tsumugi sat beside Tasuku on the right like it was second nature. That seemed to be the right choice, because Tasuku let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Without taking out his bento box, Tasuku crossed his arms as he leaned against the volleyball net pole.

“We’re alone now. What’s wrong with you?” Tasuku finally asked, carefully analyzing Tsumugi’s every move. Tsumugi didn’t know what to say; he was usually the one listening, not talking. It was out of his comfort zone to now be expected to talk. What was he supposed to even say? What did this original person even act like? Tsumugi wished he could read Tasuku, but the man was a closed book so far.

“I… I’m just tired.” Tsumugi admitted, trying not to pay attention to every inflection in this new voice. Tsumugi knew he’d just overthink himself to death if he actually observed every little change in this new environment. It definitely wasn’t a lie to say he was overwhelmingly exhausted, not only with this body switch but with life’s challenges in general. Tasuku seemed to see that, since he nodded and accepted the response. Thankfully, it seemed like Tasuku wasn’t the type to demand an explanation so quickly. At that, the two finally took out their lunches and ate in relative silence.

Tsumugi took some time to think everything over rationally as he tried to not devour this homemade lunch. It had been so long since he had anything not from the 7/11 convenience store. Right now, he was having an onigiri only a grandmother could make. It took all of Tsumugi’s willpower not to act like he was starving (he was) in front of the effortlessly cool and intimidating Takoto Tasuku.

From the short time Tsumugi’s known him, Tasuku was already impressive. Students acknowledged him in the hallways, he obviously had a reputation with sports, and he was a loyal friend right from the start. Tsumugi couldn’t help but admire him, even if he had just met the man a mere hour ago. But, there was something about Tasuku. Something more. Tsumugi couldn’t place his finger on what exactly made Tasuku feel so... familiar.

Tsumugi spaced out, already finishing his lunch. Before Tsumugi could get too distracted, Tasuku’s hand appeared in his sight once more. This appeared to be a common theme, not that Tsumugi minded. In Tasuku’s hand was a pair of chopsticks holding some sort of… fried fish?

“Here. Make sure to eat more, I can hear your stomach from here.” Tasuku grumbled, pretending like it was an inconvenience to take care of Tsumugi, but his proud puff of his chest betrayed him when Tsumugi took a bite. It was so good, Tsumugi wanted to know the recipe straight away. At the sight of his sparkling eyes, Tasuku just pushed his box over, insisting that he wasn’t hungry anymore.

“Besides, I have to stay fit for my game tomorrow anyways. You’re coming, right?” Tasuku shot Tsumugi a genuine smile when he immediately nodded his head. Tsumugi internally cursed himself over the fact he had no idea where Tasuku was even playing, but shoved food into his mouth to avoid thinking about it too hard.

“I-I’m…” Tsumugi swallowed the vegetables quickly, forgetting his mouth was open to begin with. He truly wasn’t used to this much food being in his mouth all at once. Tasuku smirked, trying to stifle his snicker behind his hand as he pretended to cough into his fist. Tsumugi didn’t know why, but his immediate reflex was to send a light punch against Tasuku’s bicep. Was that the right move? Tasuku froze for a split second before sending one back, twice as hard. Ow.

“I’ll be your biggest fan tomorrow, Ta-chan.” Tsumugi said honestly, not knowing if it was solely his words or someone else’s. Maybe, even a mixture of both. Tsumugi never got swayed by anyone quickly, but it was hard not to do that when Tasuku seemed to be his only friend. Tasuku widened his eyes before looking away, watching some boys play volleyball with a slight hue of red across his cheeks. Tasuku was desperately trying to hide his embarrassment, but it was a fail once his voice cracked at the beginning of his next sentence.

“Ta-chan? You haven’t said that in so long, idiot.” Tasuku ended roughly, acting like this was nothing. Tsumugi didn’t have the heart to tease such a nice boy, and just hummed.

“Thanks, though.” Tasuku quietly replied, and Tsumugi just noticed his country twang to his words. They must’ve been hours from Tokyo, Tsumugi mused, but he smiled anyways. Tsumugi didn’t know how it looked upon this face, but it seemed to work when Tasuku smiled back.

The bell rang once more, signaling the end of recess and lunch. Tasuku stood up and offered his hand, the other behind his neck as his blush became prominent in the daylight.

“Come on, you must not want to move with how much food you ate.”

“It was good!” Tsumugi defended himself, but took Tasuku’s hand anyway. Something flashed in Tsumugi’s vision before it was gone as soon as it came. Tsumugi didn’t think anymore of it, and followed Tasuku to the next class.

Tsumugi was so full and content that he didn’t realize he didn’t let go of Tasuku’s hand all the way to class.

[juliecarstairs6]

The intern

Prequel

Pairing: L x reader

Summary: Y/N has been an intern for six months now at the Japanse Police station. But she decides to stay after a mysterious killer appears with the nickname kira. And it could also have something to do with that strange man she met in a coffee shop.

words: 1434

Warnings: mention of diet, serial killer 

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I've been working for the Japanse Police for over six months and it has been exhausting. Not only is it hard work I don’t get respected being a woman. They think that I am weak and refuse to send me on field work so I am stuck with boring papers and getting coffee. Thankfully some people do respect me it’s only a handful but that handful is keeping me here. My supervisor is one of them chief Yagami he is respectful man and I look up to him. I remember him calling out one of my colleagues for suggesting I simply become a secretary for crying out loud I did my training and graduated just like them and chief Yagami tought the exact same thing. He wasn’t the only one standing up for me, Matsuda my best friend always has my back and I have his. Our friendship evolved quite quickly we were both the outcasts of the police station and that meant eating lunch together and eventually having a drink after work. He makes my life so much lighter with his endless positism and enthousiam. The only downside to our friendship is the embarrassing moments he endures and drags me with him. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.

But the true reason I deciced to stay longer is Kira. He fascinates me and I wish to meet him and talk to him and possibly even take a brain scan and see what is going on with him. It’s obvious he is a serial killer he has a pattern like all serial killers and i doubt he feels any remorse. But why criminals? Perhaps it gives him a way to justify his killing he probably thinks he is doing the world a favor and even saving lifes. But then again why not turn in to the police if you can get close enough t give someone a heart attack you can surly hand them into the police? No he isn’t more than a horrendous killer.

“Y/N and Matsuda, can I talk to you in my office?”, I stop my train of toughts about Kira and look at chief Yagami. I hope I’m not in trouble and I try to make my voice sound strong. “Yes”. As i turn around I see that everyone is looking at us just perfect. Doubt washes over my body as I approach his office. That misstake I made with the Yuri case could it be about that? But why is Matsuda then also being called he had nothing to do with it? He gives me a reasurring smile right before we enter the office that warms my heart atleast I have him by my side. I nod to chief Yagami after I enter and see Matsuda saluting him. This is what I mean by embarrassing moments. “Both of you sit down please.” I can feel my heart beating out of my chest and fear for the worst it’s a terrible treat of mine. I swirl my h/c round my finger a of nervousity as he begins to speak. “This afternoon their will be a world convernce about the Kira case and I would want you two to come with me. It will a great learning experience for both of you.” My heart is once again beating out of my chest but this time for other reasons. Matsuda looks at me with a huge grin and I can’t help my face forming a smile as well. I anwser him not wanting Matsuda to say something to excited ,“It’s an honor to be invited to this sir and we will attend the convernce.”

I’m still in shock after I leave the office this is huge opportunity and I’m so thankful to chief Yagami for giving it to me and Matsuda. Now we can perhaps finally be taken serious. “Pinch me I need to know if I’m dreaming or not.” I turn to Matsuda and give him a little pinch we both giggle after that both in disbelief that out of all the cops beter and more experienced he chose us, ofcourse I am not complaining. “This is probably the best work day I’ve had in a long time.” Matsuda nods at me and laughs before saying, “Even better than when I introduced you to that coffee shop with those heavenly cheescakes?” Oh god I remember tasting that cake and being in love it’s the best in the entire world. I make a mocking thinking pose, “No I still think this day is better, oh speaking about it wanna get a drink their before we have to leave we are on our break anyways?”. His faces drops in a dissapointed scowl and he slugs his shoulders. He can’t come he probably still has work it’s typically him. Always doing things at last minute I really need to learn him to plan his work better that way he will have so much more time. But that task is more difficult than catching Kira himself. “Let me guess you don’t have time cause you still have work to do?” he nods and gives me a sheepish smile. “Well another time then goodluck and if you still haven’t finished work I’ll help you but you seriously need to learn how to plan.” He gives me one of his heartwarming smiles and I already know I will get a phonecall at night and will end up helping him. “Thank you Y/N. Without you i’d probably be fired.” I wave him good bye and head my way to the cafe. I mean it’s not my fault Matsuda still has work and a little treat won’t hurt my diet I hope. 

The cafe is only a 5 minute walk not that I mind it the weather is good and I feel the sunshine on my face leaving a pleasant warm feeling. The decorations outside of the cafe are questionable it’s all pink and white and definitly meant as a romantic cafe. On both sides of the door the walls are decorated with many many flowers and it gives a sweet and calm aura. The smell of coffee fils my nostrils and it’s one of my favorites things. How the hell do people survive without it. The smell enhances as I enter the cafe inside it has the same vibe as outside with pink and white everywhere. there are all kind of seating options from the clasic chairs to high chairs, sofa’s and beanbags all decorated with diffrent pillows.The two cats of the owners chairman meow and church are laying lazely on one of the sofa’s decorated with many cat themed pillows, that sofa is the cats spot. Normally I’d order a latte and cheescake but today I want something else so I walk to the menu when a guy bumps into me. Even after many years of police training I still managed to fall on my ass with the guy now on top of me. My face begins to redden as I see the enitre cafe looking at me and the guy. Who is back on his feet and sticks his hand out to help me and I can’t help but wonder if he is homeless. His hair is sticking in all directions and he has some of the biggest bags under his eyes that I have ever seen. Normally I don’t judge a book by it’ cover but this man is strange to say the least. But I was raised to have respect so I go ahead and apoligze. “I am really sorry sir I didn’t see you.” He sticks his thumb in his mouth and looks at me like I am some kind of riddle a puzzle to be solved it’s actually kind of cute. “No need to apolgize but there is a 50% change us falling is youre fault. I have been here many times and this event never occured to me so it might be a higher percentage.” This man is strange no doubt but yet I want to get to know him better he seems interessting and I was gonna drink and eat alone better see if I can get myself some company. “Well again I am sorry my head was in the coulds. I noticed you don’t have company wanna maby drink our coffees togther?” Now he is looking at me like I am an alien no he is analyzing me I reconigze his look. Now I really hope he says yes he fascinates me. “Altough there is a 70 % change I won’t enjoy this I suppose trying won’t hurt anyone.”

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Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me except Y/N all of them excpet the cats belong to the writers of Death Note the cats belong to Cassandra Clare. The plot is also highly based on the plot of the writers of Death note 

Be sure to give me advice and requests are also open for one shots with youre favorite or less favorite characters. I don’t write smut so please don’t request that cause I won’t write it.

[jinmukangwrites]

Whumptober Day 16

Hallucinations

Ao3

-o-o-o-o-

"Nightwing, report."

Bruce says it more heartlessly than he means to. Here he is, dragging his eldest child through the grimy streets of the Theater District, kicking up abandoned, soggy pieces of litter as they stumble inch by inch towards the Batmobile, and he asks his barely lucid son to report as he hangs around Bruce's shoulder by a limp arm. 

And maybe it's just the quote unquote emotional constipation in him. Maybe whenever he sees any of his children this out of commission, something inside of him subconsciously crawls away to hide. Turn his face. Harden every single one of his outer layers until the sight of pain in his children's faces just doesn't bother him as much as it probably should. 

It does bother him. He just can't ever bring himself to show it while they're still in the heat of the moment. 

"Chum," he repeats when Dick simply lets out a little mewl. "Can you make it back to the cave?" 

:READMORE:

Dick shakes his head against Bruce's shoulder, pain wrinkling the skin at the corners of his wandering eyes. Bruce noted Dick's been looking slightly off and to the left for the past five minutes. Bruce wishes he could see what Dick sees right now, tell him whatever he's seeing over there isn't real and it's all Crane's fear toxin, but he knows better. He's worked with plenty of victims who hallucinate enough times to know the worst thing you could do was ask them about the sights and sounds they were experiencing. Whether it's illusions caused by drugs or a mentally ill patient in Arkham, asking them to verbalize and explain was just as good as making it a reality for them. 

Bringing it out of their heads and into the real world. 

Judging by how Dick's still managing to get his legs to work alongside Bruce as they walk a little further, the delusions he's seeing must not be fully effecting him. 

"B- I…" Dick swallows and shakes his head again. "It's bad this- this time. I- I don't know if… if I can…"

He cuts off with a groan and Bruce drags them forward ever faster, wincing at the strain of the movement added with Dick's extra weight bearing down upon his wounded calf, sliced open by Scarecrow's scythe not ten minutes ago. 

Bruce has already administered the antidote into Dick's bloodstream, but it seems Crane has altered his formula once again. The most it's doing is slowing down the effects, but Bruce knows that sooner or later Dick will be completely lost to his nightmares, and Bruce will be helpless to do anything but work as fast as he can to create an antidote. 

"Just hold on, chum, just one more street and we'll be in the car, then we can figure all of this out."

Curse Crane for being around long enough to know that Bruce's most important tricks and tricks are within his utility belt. He got a lucky swipe at his hips during the heat of their now finished battle and broke a lot of the wiring he has within the device. The button to summon the Batmobile was broken, and seeing as Alfred was currently out of the country and most of his kids off doing their own things, he couldn't have anyone manually drive the Batmobile towards them. 

He's just glad Damian went with Alfred to England. The lad needed a trip out, and Alfred was happy to suggest bringing him along. Because, while that might mean there's no one to help Bruce while Dick is dosed up on fear toxin like this, it also means Damian won't have to see his eldest brother like this. 

"Br's," Dick mumbles beside him as the place where Bruce parked the Batmobile comes into sight. 

"Yes, chum?" 

"I can't… I- think-"

Suddenly, Dick jerks away from Bruce's grasp, and thanks to the blood-loss in his leg, he isn't quite strong enough to stop Dick from slipping from his hands and collapsing onto the floor, whining and trying to get back to his feet with the strength of a newborn fawn. 

Bruce rushes forward. "Nightwing!" 

He tries to grab at Dick and lift him back up, but Dick yelps and flinches violently like he's been shocked. "No please!" 

And… shit. The fear toxin is finally taking full effect. Of course it's had to happen now, when they were so close to the Batmobile. Within a millisecond, Bruce tries to determine what kind of procedures he'll have to enact to get Dick into the car and back to the cave. Does Dick simply need space? Or does he need to be restrained?

He should plan on restraints. Always plan for every outcome, but prepare for the worst case scenario first. It's a lesson he's forced himself to learn over the years, one he's taught to every child who he's ever mentored and called his own. 

"Please no, please stop-" Dick continues to whimper, slowly stumbling to his feet and backing up like he's one blow of the wind from falling over. "I can't-"

And Bruce moves. As much as seeing Dick like this hurts him, he also knows the longer the toxin is in Dick's system, the more potential damage it could do. It will be better in the long run to ignore Dick's internal struggles and get him to the cave than it would be to not startle him. 

Dick tries to fight him, his breaths coming out in panicked bursts as Bruce grabs onto his upper body and pins him to his chest. Dick immediately begins to struggle, his back to Bruce's chest and his arms trapped between Bruce's restraining ones. He yells out, screams to be let go and left alone, but Bruce grinds his teeth and manhandles Dick towards the car, forcing himself to ignore the pulsing pain in his leg or how he'll definitely have to stitch it himself later.

He gets to the car thankfully without anyone coming out to see what the ruckus was about. People scream all the time in the Theater District despite Bruce's constant attempts to lower the rate of crime. Where in normal cities, people would probably at least look out their windows to see what commotion was about, in Crime Alley it was smarter to keep the blinds shut and the doors locked. 

Shoving Dick into the car takes tremendous effort. Dick's full on panicking now, trying to hit and kick at Bruce with everything he's got, and by the time Bruce has him locked into the back of the Batmobile where the chair with restraints reside, he's sporting a number of new bruises along his chest and jaw.

He shuts the foot and leans against the car for a moment, catching his breath as a wave of dizziness crashes into him. Dick's writhing within the restraints of the chair, screaming and kicking, clawing at any straps his fingers can barely grasp at. 

Bruce sucks in a breath of air, hardens the shell around him, then limps towards the driver's seat. 

By the time he skids to a stop within the cave, Dick's gone from screaming and struggling to crying and heartbreaking attempts to simply curl up. Multiple times during the ride, he's called for Bruce to save him. To swoop in and make the pain stop. Multiple times he apologizes for not being good enough. For always failing. 

Bruce wants nothing more than to tell him that he's here, and that he'll fix this, and that he considers the man Dick Grayson is today to be one of his greatest achievements. Never a disappointment. 

But his vision is woozy and he feels nauseous thanks to the blood-loss, and he knows Dick will be deaf to any reassurances until he has an antitoxin in his system. There is no point in wasting time. Not when he could be spending it curing Dick's fears and then making sure he doesn't bleed to death. 

Because he's pretty sure if he bleeds to death while Alfred is in England, the man will bring Bruce back to life just so he can kill him himself. 

He slams his fingers on the button that opens all the doors of the Batmobile and then stumbles out. He leaves Dick restrained to the chair for the moment while he practically trips over his own feet towards the lab where he grabs a roll of gauze and ties it around his leg. He then grabs the nearest clean syringe, turns, and prepares himself for what he's about to do. 

He takes off his cowl, in hopes a familiar face will make the process easier, but Dick still sobs and screams and begs as Bruce shoves the needle into his arm anyway. 

"I'm sorry, please, it hurts- it hurts-"

He forces himself to tune it out, rushing back towards the lab as quickly as his hastily bandaged wound would allow and begins to analyze Dick's blood. Dick doesn't stop whimpering for the entire process, and by the time Bruce has an antitoxin ready, he's practically numb.

Numb to Dick's constant sobbing and expressions of fear. Numb to his own body. 

Everything spins as he walks like a dead man towards his son one final time. As much as it initially pained him to do, he's glad now that he has Dick restrained like this. He's so weak that he knows he wouldn't be able to fight off Dick's writhing if he were free.

He presses the needle into Dick's neck, ignoring how his cries and shouts become louder, his struggling becoming more violent. However, there's nothing Dick can do to fend off Bruce like this, and soon the entirety of the antitoxin in running its course through his system.

Both Bruce and Dick collapse, Bruce because of the overtaking dizziness, Dick because the fear toxin is now in process of being nullified. 

Dick's still hallucinating, Bruce can tell, but they're not as violent as what they were just a few minutes ago. Bruce can't really look and see through, he can barely keep his eyes open. It's all he can do to lean against the car and rest his head near where Dick's thighs sit on the chair. He can feel Dick twitching every so often, but the twitches become smaller the more time goes by. 

Eventually, Dick's whimpers become nothing more than tired sighs, and Bruce finally lets his eyes close. 

-o-o-o-o-

Bruce wakes up what must be hours later. He knows this, because the chittering in the cave above him is louder, a sign that it's morning and the bats are slowly beginning to return home.

He's laying on his back on top of one of the metal lab tables, various beakers and tools pushed to the side to make room for his body. His entire leg is numb, but not in the way that meant blood-loss and infection, but one that suggested a numbing agent. He groans and gets his elbows under him, wincing at the strain in his spine from the hard surface of the table. There's a tug in his wrist that belongs to an IV hooked to a bag of blood, and when he looks down he can see his leg has been expertly wrapped. Various medical tools lay forgotten by his legs along with a bloodied needle and a spool of medical thread. 

Then, his eyes catch onto a very pale, but peacefully resting Dick Grayson. Bruce has no idea how he escaped the restraints of the Batmobile, dragged Bruce all the way here, and patched up his leg, but judging by how he's absolutely knocked out cold, curled up in a very uncomfortable metal chair, it took a lot of strain for him to pull off. 

Bruce is just glad that Dick managed to escape the restraints after the antitoxin was administered, and not before. 

Slowly, Bruce slides the IV out from his arm and climbs off the table, cautious of his bad leg. Dick doesn't move as Bruce approaches, which is probably for the best. Bruce carefully brushes his hand against Dick's cheek, and finally lets himself feel something when Dick hums sleepily and leans into his touch. 

Dick is twenty-seven years old. But Bruce knows that Dick could grow to be forty, or eighty, or older, and Bruce would always see him as that little eight year old who first somersaulted into his life, the same little boy stood in front of Bruce with a determined set to his jaw; demanding Bruce let him out at night to fight crime.

"Dick," Bruce whispers, moving his hand up a little to sneakily check his temperature as Dick's eyelashes flutter open. "Chum, Alfred will murder us if we sleep all night in the cave."

"But'm comfy," Dick mumbles through a yawn and Bruce finds a grin slowly spreading on his lips.

"No you're not. Come on, up."

Dick groans as Bruce wraps his hand around his bicep to coax him to his feet. Soon enough, Bruce has Dick leaning against his side, arms wrapped around each other to support both of their weights. Together, they walk towards the stairs, dreading the walk up but knowing they can do it as long as they have each other.

[resumeref-blog]

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[centersource-technologies]

The Most Important Changes in Incoterms 2020

What are Incoterms?

Incoterms are the international rules that determine the responsibilities, costs and risks between the seller and the buyer. They are universal rules that bring predictability to the business. It’s important to keep in mind that this is not the full sales contract, only part of it incorporated into the contract. From time to time the International Chamber of Commerce (ICC) releases new changes and improvements, and this article will discuss some of those most relevant topics.

Incoterms define responsibilities

The first important thing is to see the type of incoterm chosen, the delivery place and the version of incoterms being used must be mentioned, e.g. DAP Stora Marknadsvägen 15, 7tr, 183 34 Täby Incoterm 2020. Mentioning the Incoterm in the right way will avoid any misunderstanding about payments and risks of each party, because each business partner must understand their own responsibility and in case of a judiciary dispute, a judge might be able to analyze the responsibilities involved easily. Another change is about the “on board” term on the BL. On FCA Incoterms both parties might agree that the buyer has to instruct the carrier to issue a bill of lading on board to the seller after the goods are loaded. However, the seller is under no commitment to the purchaser regarding the details of the transportation contract.

Changes in Incoterms

It is important to note the year of the incoterm because they can change over time. For example, from the incoterm 2010 to the incoterm 2020 the DAT incoterm has been changed to DPU – Delivery-At-Place Unloaded. And the new rule says that the seller delivers the goods in an agreed place at destination and is responsible until the cargo being unloaded. After that, all costs and responsibilities are at buyer’s side (including import customs clearance and any other delivery, if necessary). This rule was revised to be more general because the previous one indicated the terminal as a point of changing responsibilities and was not mentioning the time of unloading. This blind spot on DAT arises for both sides of a question about who would pay if any damage occurs while taking off the cargo from a vessel or a truck, for example. Now, this new DPU incoterm makes evident that the risk changes from one party to another after the cargo has been unloaded onto the floor. It is also more general, as any place at destination can be picked, instead of the pre-designated terminal.

Keeping track of the changes

Thinking about these difficulties, Centersource have developed the platform with an easy way to keep the exporter on track. The platform reminds you to indicate exactly the right place of delivery, as well as reminding the users about the costs involved, so they won’t forget any cost. Of course, in the end, it is a choice of the user, and Centersource provides all the tools to make the planning as smart as possible. The final choice is always left for the user – although he platform is updated to use the Incoterms 2020, it is still is possible to negotiate using the Incoterms 2010 terms.

[cvrnelivs]

— ( harry styles, cismale, he/him ) &. * — meet ( cornelius ‘ oliver ’ edwards ) ! ( he ) is ( twenty five ) years old and has lived in st. helens for ( two ) years . when they’re not helping the town prepare for halloween , they work as a ( baker ) . around here, they’re known to be ( idealistic ) & ( intuitive ) yet ( unpredictable ) & ( destructive ) and apparently their favorite fall activity is ( visiting the farmer’s market ) . safe to say it really wouldn’t be halloweentown without them !

hiya! i am kt &+ underneath the read more is a LOT of info about my bb, cornelius/oliver. ** insert clown emoji but make ‘em yee-haw ** if you’d like to plot you can reach me on here or at space cowboy#8536 on discord !! <33 v excited to interact with y’all and your bbs !!

( DISCLAIMER : THIS IS LONG - WOW !!! just felt a lot of muse !!! apologies !!  ) 

𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖈𝖘

name: cornelius oliver edwards.

nicknames: ollie, ol, lee !! literally whatever - “hey, you” dkjfgn

gender: cismale. pronouns: he, him.

age: twenty-five.

birthday: june 27th.

zodiac: cancer !!

orientation: pansexual / panromantic.

occupation: baker // aspiring filmmaker.

languages spoken: english & french.

𝖎𝖓𝖘𝖕𝖎𝖗𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

- PINTEREST - featuring his wardrobe, his home, his aesthetic, some character inspo and olive, his german shepard pup !!

- SPOTIFY PLAYLIST - what oliver is currently listening to !!

personality type: INFJ-T / THE ADVOCATE

moral alignment: chaotic good

style-wise: oliver is v stylish, but isn’t overly flashy by any means. he’s intuitive in the sense of what works and what doesn’t. willing to explore the latest wardrobe craze, but also just likes what he likes and likely won’t venture out unless pressed by another to do so. post coming soon for his wardrobe !!! they say that the cancer man’s clothing is selected to reflect “ sophistication over flash “ but kdgjn i’ll let ya’ll be the judge of that. he’s v much harry inspired clothing wardrobe, but also tones it down with some casual looks, especially with being in the bakery and getting his hands dirty in creative aspects !!

𝖇𝖆𝖈𝖐𝖌𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉

   oliver was born in kent, england. he’s the youngest in his family of three, having an older brother and sister w/ two loving parents. when he was nine, his family packed up and moved to southern california, where they resided until oliver left for college on the east coast - his family trading off between living back in england and on the west coast throughout the year. upon moving to a new country at a young age, oliver truly found himself via escaping into various books and movies. often attempting to write his own and would force encourage his siblings to act his skits/plays out for his parents enjoyment. growing up, oliver also enjoyed playing all types of sports ( his parents kind of threw him in hoping he’d make friends ), but when it came down to it, athletic abilities-wise, there truly wasn’t anything that he wasn’t ‘ good ‘ at, and that’s simply because he’s always been such a competitive individual / as well as a perfectionist. that competitive/perfectionist energy caused him to go home and practice a skill or trick for hours in order to be able to come back the next day and whoop everyone’s asses. throughout highschool ; oliver was a v dedicated student. although he’s a bit reckless and loved to goof off, he was always acing classes and applying himself. he genuinely cares for others, you could’ve seen his ass volunteering at a soup kitchen with his mom on sundays and what not, as well as take part in various clubs and sports ! just SOFT and sportythings.

   post-high school, oliver attended NYU double majoring in film & television and dramatic writing. despite his extensive and well received portfolio, oliver has always been a perfectionist and overcritical of his work, unwilling to share his projects with anyone until he deems them to be ~ perfect ~ himself. after graduating, he spent a year traveling, trying to find a bit of inspiration around him and taking up odd jobs to get some $$ of his own, dog walking, attempting his best at being a handy man, etc !! he moved back home to socal, and eventually made his way up to st.helen’s after he was sent a job posting for the bakery in town !! although he knows he doesn’t want to pursue a career in baking forever, he’s enjoying his time while trying to find a bit more muse for his future film&writing career.

   overall, oliver can come off as a bit reserved, and distant whether that be a result of his untrusting nature of others, or simply unfamiliarity. it takes a bit of time before he feels comfortable to share his true opinion / commentary / only doing so when he feels secure to do so. he’s not necessarily unfriendly, just a bit distant / lost in his thoughts. which varies, as with most ppl ofc, upon person to person and his level of comfortability among them. despite his often lack of conversation, he abhors an uncomfortable silence to settle and will fill it with nonsense to simply avoid the feeling altogether. so, if you ever want to catch him rambling, just making him uncomfortable dkjfngdf. he definitely approaches most things with a bit of ‘ tough love ‘ . he doesn’t mind getting into a quarrel or two if he knows its worth the outcome he’s envisioned. oliver will tell others when they are fucking up, and if they are throwing a punch as a result - catch him leaning into it, which explains his bout of reckless antics. he can come off as a know it all, when it comes to advice giving, but more so because he thinks he’s really good at analyzing others and situations they are in, not necessarily because he’s lived through them himself, he’s just rather intuitive and able to empathize quite easily with others despite his verbal admittance of it. when it comes down to this binches reckless bits, he just feels so intensely that he ends up numbing himself in the aftermath of it all ( especially bc he’s definitely not sharing those feelings with the people around him ), therefore he’s willing to put himself into harms way in order to get a bit of that - happiness / pain, it doesn’t matter to him as long as he no longer feels overwhelmed by numbness. so, if ya see him with some scrapes and stitches ~ mind ya business. but he’ll likely try to drag somebody else into it, and make it seem like it was their idea. but if he is truly comfortable with somebody, he walks a fine line of won’t stop talking, especially if it’s an interest of his, and comfortable silence.

𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖘𝖔𝖓𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖙𝖞 & 𝖍𝖆𝖇𝖎𝖙𝖘

he is a CANCER, therefore in this essay i will..... kidding but here’s some fun cancer info i saw that applies to my bb !! at first he appears to be wistful, sarcastic ( maybe a lil crabby ) , shy, distant and mysterious. this personality remains if he isn’t completely comfortable around somebody. but overall, that’s just his facade, his ‘smokescreen’ of sorts to scare off the world from his outwards persona. underneath that layer ( makes me think of shrek metaphor with onions // don’t mind me ), BUT he’s gentle, kind and affectionate ( if you manage to make it to that level * bell dings * ) !!! overall, oliver is a sensitive soul, a bit emotional although he’d rather d*e than show that to others. likely will internalize anything that can hurt his feelings / a low blow and will do something chaotic as a result later on bc of it. very polite, and a little worldly, he is truly the epitome of old-school gentlemanly manners. chivalry coming as a second nature to him !!

that was getting ramble-y, so continuing HERE. but when it comes to romance, as per the cancer man, the concept of love is a mystery, one that oliver is trying to attain. however, his shyness and innate distrust of others make it difficult for him to allow himself to fall in love. his guard is always up when it comes to his emotions, and it’ll take a bit of prodding before he’s willing to speak up on what’s desired from him. he’s v picky when it comes to finding the “ partner of his dreams “ - but he’s def willing to throw himself into the romance of the situation, i.e. buying flowers, riding white horses, and slaying metaphorical dragons. the traditional side means that he will shower his partner with thoughtful gifts, wine and dine them in the best restaurants, and try to grant their every wish. he will take the garbage out, fix that wobbly shelf, navigate on road trips, and kill more so trap and release bugs for his partner, and most important of all he will do it all without being asked. his loyalty and keen attention to the needs and wants of his potential partner. so basically, more so willing to showcase through actions than speak on it. it’s the little things, right ??!?!?! he def cherishes not just the act of being in a relationship, but what it means to become one with another person in mind, body, and soul.

prides himself on being able to make a mean cup of coffee, likely the worst person to watch a movie with bc he knows exactly how it’s going to end after only watching five minutes of it, he has a godawful sense of direction, will walk in circles for fifteen minutes before even raising a question about it/noticing ( but he refuses to acknowledge it. )

his house, car, workspace, junk drawer, closet….you name it - it’s organized, practically sparkling. often times arranged by color, and / or style. nothing is ever out of place, and if it is - there’s trouble brewing. but, more than anything, if he’s visiting somebody’s place and it’s messy, he will spend a solid thirty minutes picking everything up before doing whatever it is that was intended.

likes : reading, flowers, handwritten notes/letters, deep cleaning, baking, curating soundtracks for his film projects, watching the history channel and true crime docs and playing / watching hockey !!

dislikes : artichoke, clutter, sandals ( fkjgh ), unrealistic plotlines in movies &+ burnt coffee.

habits : smoking cigarettes - although he’s been meaning to quit. likely has a severe caffeine addiction, although he’s now normalized having six cups of coffee throughout his day. he’s an early riser, no matter how little the amount of sleep he’s received, he’s always the first to rise - for his early morning runs !!

strengths: creative, insightful, inspiring, convincing, determined and passionate, decisive, altruistic, intuitive !!

weaknesses: sensitive, extremely private, perfectionist, low-key always needs to have a cause / purpose, can burn out easily !! 

overall : oliver truly strives to be kind, and genuinely wants for everyone to get along. treat people with kindness and the like. he has the best of intentions, but often times that can get a bit muddled with the way he goes about things due to his bit of chaotic energy / as well as his often points of getting lost in his thoughts. he won’t realize he’s been quiet for the last three hours unless it’s mentioned to him. he will do anything to lighten a dark mood, and will sacrifice / throw himself under the bus if its needed. however, he also is the type to cause the dark mood depending on the day. wahoo! his more reckless antics increase when he’s feeling a bit emotional !! but he’ll likely try and convince somebody to propose the idea so it’s not on him. 

𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖔𝖒 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖉 𝖈𝖆𝖓𝖔𝖓𝖘

in an attempt to throw himself into the town’s traditions and what not, after moving to st. helen’s oliver decided it was upon himself to put on a very spooo0ooky haunted house! so, catch him converting his home into a haunted house for the month of october !!! nothing cheesy either !! it’s more a psychological scare dkjgn with some gore elements !! EnTeR iF yOu DaRe !!!

he bounced around playing sports growing up, but favored ice hockey and field lacrosse out of them all.

HE WANTS TO JOIN A BOOKCLUB PLEASE !!!!!!!! or at least have some casual moments of silence with another reading. plz and tysm.

he is a vegetarian ! he has been since his freshman year of high school and has no plans on eating seafood/meat ever again.

he loves fancy wine ~ he’s cultured. visits seb’s winery v often !!!

he can play the drums !!

he collects vintage matchbooks and the stickers off of various fruits ( he puts them in a little notebook - can be found on his bookshelf ).

saves handwritten notes and letters from pals.

he loves to garden !!!! he has a specified rose shearing hat.

to make things a bit simple, he has all of harry’s tattoos !!  might add more along the way !! stay tuned, folks !!

𝖜𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖓𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘

honestly, i am so up for anything !!! please accept this ramble of ideas thrown below.  if you have any other ideas, lmk !!!! <3333 :’-)

( 2 / 2 ) - BFFZ : the z for an added emphasis dkfjgnd. somebody who likely has a key to oliver’s house, they can enjoy one anothers company as well as the bouts of comfortable silence. you know how best friends are but kdjfngd still !! whether they are likeminded or polar opposites that just flow ~~ down for anything !! even a trio of sorts ?!

( 0 / ?? ) - MUSE(S) : somebody that he often strikes inspo from for his short films and what not !! or has starred/he plans to have them star in his future compilations of sorts !! can be simply from their own ideals, their look / ~vibe~ dkfjgn // whatever !!

( 1 / 1 ) - RIDE OR DIE / CHAOTIC COMPANION : it would be wrong to say one is the more likely the bad influence over the other, although oliver may just be. these two find themselves bounding into, well hell, ( i guess??? ) together. playing on one anothers impulsiveness and if one ends up in the back of a police car, the other is handcuffed to them. and yet despite the length of their potential injuries, they find themselves thinking of something crazier to subject them to the next time around.

( 1 / 1 ) - GUARDIAN ANGEL / GOOD INFLUENCE : with ollie being a bit chaotic in nature, he needs somebody that is likely going to steer him clear from all the ideas that’ll bring him to the brink of disaster. he’s impulsive and in that desperate attempt to feel again, he’s very likely to bring a bit of mayhem upon himself. so while they may be worrying and attempting to talk his ideas down, he’s trying to get them to go along with his plan. it may be rare that he actually takes their advice, but when he does it seems to be for the best.

( 0 / 1 ) - PARTY FRIEND : these two know how to have a good time together. despite the amount of alcohol they are throwing back and the shenanigans they find themselves in as a result, this is a time where they also find themselves confiding in one another. if you look at their camera rolls, it’s likely they have tons of embarrassing and unflattering videos and pics of one another, in between their sob-worthy confessionals and venting/rants. these two trust one another, and although they love getting wreckT together, they find themselves discussing very raw and personal details. likely the only person oliver confides in, simply bc he’s completely plastered.

( 1 / 1 ) - SIBLING-LIKE RELATIONSHIP : these two have a love/hate relationship, very sibling like filled with pranks, competition, teasing and playful banter. however, when it comes down to it they have so much love and respect for one another. they know that no matter what happens they will always have one anothers back and be supportive of the other. truly a pure content filled relationship.

okay quick mention, ENEMY PLOTS ?!?!?!?!?!? i would live for one. i can’t imagine oliver being hardcore nasty, but i’d like to see whatever version comes out for this. so let’s get it djfngjakdfg maybe they just hold different viewpoints on the world and what not and clash, anything really !!! v open !!

( 1 / 1 ) - MENTOR - oliver needs a bit of structured or unstructured guidance, all depending on what their deemed mentor is wanting to impart on him, a bit of wisdom or slight chaos. kdjfgn he’ll take anything !! life advice in any and all aspects. maybe they come into the bakery, or maybe they help him with his garden. who knows, i certainly don’t know how they met, but we’ll figure it out ?!?!

RANDOM LITTLE IDEAS : maybe they’ve heard of one another in town, but haven’t quite met yet! or maybe they see each other around all the time, but have yet to introduce themselves to one another but low-key maybe in some online forum for the town together ?! who knows some fun things kdjnfg i AM OPEN !

ooh maybe a slowburn of sorts ?! something spicy to wreck ollie’s and my life with.  dkfjgn we can base this off of chemistry !!! :’-) 

[bionicragdoll]

Rottmnt Donnie with a crush on human who sees mutants as a normal thing cuz they grew up knowing both humans and mutants (even though adults told them to stay away from mutants)?

A/N Sorry this, and all your other requests, are months late. I’m working on them. Promise.

After mutants started appearing all over New York it was impossible for the press or authorities to keep the matter fully hidden. Some, like the turtles, kept out of sight from humans as much as possible, not eager to end up on an Area 51 dissection table. Other though, through caution to the wind and made no effort to hide their existence from the humans of the city. Once the reports started coming in your parents made it a point to warn you how dangerous these mutants were, pointing to certain news reports about damage, destruction, murders, and missing people, not all of which were actually confirmed to be connected to mutants. You listened politely but didn’t say anything. You were firm in your belief that just because someone was different didn’t mean they were dangerous. You wanted to judge someone based on actions the character those actions revealed. After all, sometimes monsters hide beneath pretty faces. You got your chance walking home one night. You had been at the library late studying for a test you had coming up. (Subject) didn’t come easy to you but you wanted to do well anyway and be proud of whatever grade you got knowing that you worked hard to earn it. The light across the intersection changed and you stepped into the street, so preoccupied with reviewing your notes in your head that you didn’t check for traffic first. A large…tank? Came barreling around the corner at the same time, nearly flattening you but swerved at the last moment. When you and the driver locked eyes your breath caught. It was a mutant, no doubt there. A mutant turtle, all clad in purple and technology that made the nerd in you drool. His drawn on eyebrows raised in surprise. How did that even work? You wondered as you stared at him slack jawed. He was equally stunned at your unexpected appearance and there seemed to be a bit of horror at the idea that he had been seen and that he almost killed you with his driving. The moment passed and he continued speeding off into the dark. You continued staring at the vehicle, still in shock from seeing a real live, and kinda cute, mutant, and from almost being run over by said mutant. Once you could no longer see the tail lights of the ridiculously sized vehicle and your heart resumed its normal tempo you continued home, thought full of unanswered questions.

Once Donnie got home from their latest mission he ran to his lab and input all of the information he had gleaned on you in the few brief seconds of your almost meeting. You were a teenager, leaving the public library, which means you were likely a public student in the area. Your books had been related to (subject) so you were taking a class in it at least, and probably had a big assignment or test in it. That narrowed down the search a bit. No clothes with the school name on it but from your build and the buttons on your bag gave him an idea of the clubs and sports you would likely be interested in. He used all of that information to create a worm to infect the databases of the public schools within living distance of that particular library and look for matches. He had to then look through the matches manually, comparing yearbook photos to the face he had seen in the mirror. It took almost half a day before he found your name and address. With that it was nothing to get your address and phone number. Never one to be shy he sent a text. “I humbly apologize for nearly running you over. Let me make it up to you by taking you on the best date you’ve ever been on.” Despite the confidence he was throwing out in the conversation internally Donnie was analyzing and overanalyzing every word he sent. She knew he was a mutant. He knew what the press was saying about mutants. He was taking a massive risk, there simply wasn’t enough data to know what this girl was really like. While he was confident enough in his skills and intellect that he wasn’t really worried that you would be able to track him down from one encrypted text message there was still always that risk. There was also the risk that you would be horrified at the prospect and unleash a cruel torrent of insults at him, the same one the news ran on a nightly basis.

You stared dumbly at the text on your phone. “Purple dude?” You didn’t want to mention the mutation in case the conversation was being monitored or if he was sensitive to his mutation.

“Donnie, at your service,” came the reply.

The self assured nature of the text made you smile, “I’d like that Donnie.”

Back below street level Donnie breathed a sigh of relief before a new kind of panic threatened to overwhelm him, first date jitters.

[mandarinastronaut]

Please analyze more of the text!! Would love to hear more of your thoughts on Boris’s confession to Theo in Antwerp. Always love reading your analysis of Boris and Theo.

Thank you both!! 💞

Boris starts off by expressing his shame and guilt. He’s still tormented by the theft of the painting, and clearly wants Theo to completely and thoroughly understand this.

He’s incredibly vulnerable here, trying to explain to Theo what he really meant (still means) to him. He would’ve been completely on his own if Theo hadn’t shown up. He wouldn’t have had a place to call home, no clean clothes, no food, no one to look after him. But Theo did all that. They practically lived together, creating a little world of their own they could call home. Their bed, their money, their food, their home.

(Note how Theo’s trying to brush this off as alcoholic sentimentality because he himself is uncomfortable with discussing their relationship and feelings. He often tries to portray Boris in this kind of light, where he’s the ‘overly emotional and dim-witted foreigner’ because of his toxic masculinity and internalized homophobia. He has to be the better (stronger, more rational, more just, more straight) man; saying that Boris was the one who was a little too affectionate, replying with ‘we don’t do that in America’ when Boris asks if Theo hit Pippa etc.)

Boris symbolizes sin; everything Theo believes to be bad (drugs, vulnerability, emotion, criminality, homosexuality, impulse). It’s very fitting to have him oppose this question, why be straight good? And furthermore, can’t good sometimes come from queer love bad? And even furthermore, what if for some people, taking the ‘wrong’ path is the only way to get around to good? Because for Boris, there was no other way. All the awfulness he had to go through, all the chaos and all the violence, lead him to Theo. And for Boris, Theo is the concept of good. He’s the only person in Boris’ life he ever felt loved by. The only person he ever loved back the same way. 

Good and bad in this context are of course referring to multiple things other than just the concepts themselves, but we’re going to focus on the romantic and sexual feelings Theo and Boris have for each other. Boris is spelling it out, saying he never drew such a sharp line between good and bad, that the line is often false for him. This can be seen throughout the novel in most things he does, including the consciously initiated moves he made on Theo back in Vegas. It’s very clear he was always the one of them who didn’t mind being attracted to other boys that much, who was aware of the sexual attraction he felt for Theo and didn’t think much of it (his problem was developing stronger romantic feelings for Theo, because he has major commitment issues).

At one point, he even casually brings up homosexuality to see how Theo feels about it (i.e. to see if he has a chance)

There’s a lot to be said about Boris’ blatantly conscious crush on Theo, but I digress. 

As long as I am acting out of love, I feel I am doing best I know how. Acting out of LOVE!! He’s saying he loves Theo, that even though he knows he hurt him and betrayed his trust, he still loves him and is only acting out of that love. He kept the painting out of love, selfishly hoarding it to feel close to Theo when he thought he’d lost him for good. Remember, the painting symbolizes Theo’s soul/heart and so, Boris didn’t only steal his beloved’s most prized possession, but his heart as well. (Which can arguably be one and the same).

Boris goes on to say that Theo is wrapped up in judgment, always regretting the past, cursing himself, blaming himself. Theo judges; curses, his sexuality, he regrets falling for Boris, regrets being so intimate with him, blames himself for being the way he is (gay). Boris is referring to the bombing here, but for Theo the meaning is multidimensional. After all, Theo’s struggle with the bombing and the loss of his mother, are connected to his relationship with sexuality in some ways.

Maybe one had to be lost for the others to be found. If the bombing had never happened, if Theo’d never taken the painting, and if he’d never been lost himself, he wouldn’t have met Boris. He wouldn’t have saved him; Boris would’ve been lonely and lost to the world. It’s very likely he would’ve died in Vegas from physical abuse, an od, or maybe even something as simple as hunger.

The last part is Theo’s confession, not Boris’, but note how he says that Boris was never afraid. He had the courage to talk to Theo at the bus stop, to invite him over to watch movies and then to stay a bit longer, to drape his arm over Theo’s waist, and to kiss him goodbye. 

I believe it’s possible Theo’s leaving out some more intimate and explicit parts of Boris’ confession, but even with this much we’re able to see how much Boris really loves Theo, and how much he needed (and still needs) him. Boris, in tears because Theo was always so good to him, in tears because he finally has the chance to express his feelings, to apologize and expose his heart for Theo to judge; to keep and treasure, or tear apart if he so wishes.