#let me little therapist self run a bit wild

[thistlecatfics]

UQuiz: Which Noble House of Black cousin are you? 

All five of them are iconic. There are no bad answers. Get assigned a character and perhaps a few supportive words <3

[gloriouswhispers]

Name: Shani 'Ani' Feldman

Age & Birthday: 40 years old, April 4th 1983

Gender/Pronouns: cis woman she/her

Birthplace: Prescott, Arizona

Time in Atlanta: 5 years

Neighborhood: Center Hill

Association: Reapers

Occupation: Mortician, Celebrant, Marriage Officiant, Beauty Therapist, Yoga Instructor, Riding Instructor... See: Con-Artist / Affiliate

Positive personality traits: Talkative, Nurturing, Witty

Negative personality traits: Devious, Stubborn, Blunt

Faceclaim: Natasha Lyonne

ABOUT:

Shani arrived in Center Hill five years ago, during particularly stormy weather, and knocked the door of the first house she could make out in the crashing rain and winds. She'd done this plenty of times throughout the country- This isn't my little rental for the weekend? oh no! The man who let her stay for the night seemed reluctant but this never deterred Shani. What she wasn't expecting, however, was being met with a brutal scene the next morning. She was only trying to make coffee and then there she was, helping to clean up blood with a cigarette in her mouth and using plastic bags as gloves because Dex's house had next to nothing practical in it. It's a strange way to start a friendship and luckily for Dex, Shani was never going to utter a word to the cops as she was a wanted woman herself.

Her story began in Prescott, Arizona born to a family that never really had the time to notice her. Her younger brother was diagnosed with severe mental health issues, a whole flurry of them. Split personality disorder, manic depression to anxiety and the Feldman house became his care facility. Shani's life was enveloped by Jeremiah's needs and she didn't mind one bit, she adored her brother even if the medication had him like a zombie more often than not. She was simply bored, left to entertain herself or with friends and family when her brother had another episode that saw him lashing out or running away.

Shani always had a flare for the dramatics, especially when it came to self-preservation. Oh no, I didn't do that homework. Someone cut our cat's head off and left it in the bed as a warning. Her imagination ran wild when she was younger, and then it became a problem. No officer, that wasn't me in that security footage. Someone must think it's funny to wear Spirit Halloween wigs while pickpocketing, shoplifting, trying to fraud prescription medications. It was never ending and without realizing Shani became more of a handful than her brother. By the time she graduated high school, her parents couldn't wait to see the back of her and Shani hit the road with several friends quite willingly.

Freedom was what she needed and Shani, equipped with the gift of the gab, learned how to hustle in the most peculiar of ways. She didn't hurt anybody but she often found herself in the right place at the right time, like the universe was calling her to be there she'd always say. She'd meet colorful characters during her journeys, who'd end up showing her the ropes of their own talents and causing Shani to end up with a pretty impressive resume.

However, there was an occasion where she wasn't in the right place at the right time. Her brother, over the years, made a habit to reach out to Shani whenever he was manic or riding a low - and she'd always tell him where she was. He'd show up, fuck things up and leave again and she never learned. It was meant to be just a quick visit to the bank, talk about these overdraft charges that were driving him crazy and next thing Shani knew, he shoved a gun in her hand while in line and fired his own into the air. Suddenly, Shani wasn't a little fish in a big pond and was wanted for armed robbery. She's been on the run ever since, which is how she ended up in Atlanta. So yeah, Dex, I'm not going to the cops.

In the five years since, Shani began working with the reapers and Dex showed her how to sharpen her skills of a con. She still lives with him, and all the other vagrants that waft in and out of his home. They've developed a close friendship, one that sees them holding one another accountable but after all - you have to respect the person who's not snitching on you for murder or for not handing you over on a platter to the pigs.

[emmythespacecowgirl]

Hi :) May I request a Band Of Brothers ship? My pronouns are she/her, straight, 5’2. I have fluffy caramel hair and deep cheekbones, always wear wide-fit, velvety, comfy clothes and chunky vintage shoes.

I’m easy-going, blunt, straight-talking, sometimes quiet but am a total flirt when I like someone. I come across as calm and rational but my mind is often in overdrive, overthinking, and I need to be my own therapist.

Love art, painting, tattoos, art therapy, psychology behind art. Love cooking and eating. Absolutely adore my big dog.

I fall hard for real warmth and character and I fall hardest once someone has shown a flawed side of themself.

Thank you and no worries if you can’t do the ship :)

hi love! thanks for submitting :))

I ship you with:

Bill Guarnere from Band of Brothers!

Ship theme song: Call Me Maybe by Carly Rae Jepsen

i think you'd be able to tame our Wild Bill :)

or at least smooth his rough edges a little haha

you probably meet each other at a bar or pub during the war

and he sees you with your friends and thinks you're a real cutie pie

so naturally he goes up to you and starts in with his "hiya, doll!" bit

but little does he know that he's in the ring with another master flirter ;)

by the end of the exchange, he's practically foaming at the mouth

nobody out-flirts Bill Guarnere!

except you ;)

Bill is naturally a sore loser

but he comes back for more the next night!

you both enjoy a pretty lengthy flirtationship

until you finally invite him back to your place

it isn't until the morning after that you two decide to start going steady

and the rest is history!

Bill's simple pleasure in life is running his hands through your hair while laying beside you in the morning

he loves the bounciness of it!

he thinks it's so fun!

you balance each other out pretty well, i'd say!

Bill appreciates your easy going nature

he gets really hot-headed about things

so having a calming presence in his life, reminding him to just let some things go, is very beneficial to him

you're both blunt and direct people

no sugar-coating in this ship!

Bill is eternally thankful for that

he thinks it's so refreshing to be able to objectively tell you things as he sees them and you not get upset

and vice versa

Bill comes from a large family

so quiet moments growing up were few and far in between

but you help him to appreciate the quiet more

Bill is definitely not the "Therapist bf" type

but he gives you objective advice when you're in those overthinking moments

he's the king of the Just Do It attitude

so he tries to help you get out of your head a little more

if you have any tattoos, Bill loves them!

he's even got one or two himself :)

the minute he finds out that you can cook, he is hooked!

mandatory dinner dates!

Bill doesn't pretend to be perfect

and he doesn't readily trust anyone who tries to be

he feels good around you because he feels like he can just be his genuine self with you and you'll still love him

warts and all <3

[unhealthyfanobsession]

Do you think you’ll continue with the lawyer Nessian fic. It was so amazingly written I’d love to read more! I love all your writing anyways I’ll be happy with anything❤️

Ok not *technically* a Drabble request BUT I’m not ready to commit to a full lawyer AU that happens in order however I did just drum up a part 2 that we’ll say is several years before the previous lawyer AU. Nessian teasing in a bar and Rhys being a dumbass.

FYI the lawyer Drabble I’m talking about can be found HERE.

“I’m in love,” Rhys slurred. Cassian, a decent bit bigger than his brother and two drinks behind him, had a gentle buzz so he could only surmise that his brother was well passed sober.

“Congratulations,” Cassian grinned, clapping his hand on Rhys’ shoulder. “May I lay eyes upon the future Mrs. Dumbass.”

Rhys stared at him flatly. Blew a laugh out of his nose. “She’s not marrying you, brother.”

Cassian snorted, casting his eyes around the elegantly decorated little lounge they’d stepped into for the night. Lounge, not bar. Because they were mature adults now looking to take the edge off after a long day of work, not college students looking to get fucked up.

It was different.

It was different because the cocktails cost $20 and were served in actual stemware instead of red solo cups. They were evolving. Growing. Cassian was a lawyer now and Rhys was supposed to be doing actual work for his dad’s company so… no more dive bars.

Now they frequented little lounges where accountants and lawyers and bankers sat in tailored suits and discussed… adult things.

It was all very civilized.

And yet here was his brother. Every bit the horny college student they were trying not to be. Oh well, old dogs and all that.

“End of the bar.” Rhys jerked his head to the left and Cassian grinned.

“Might be a little old for you, champ.”

Rhys wrinkled his brow and turned to look at the grandmother doing a crossword puzzle on the far left side of the bar. A martini glass in front of her. Good for grandma.

“Other end of the bar!”

Cassian smirked. He didn’t need to turn his head, since he’s noticed her the second she walked in, but he still did. Just so he could look some more.

“Ah, you mean the deliciously dishevelled leggy brunette with her suit jacket on the chair beside her who just ripped the pins out of her hair like they personally offended her and then laid them in a neat little pile beside her Kobo?

“Mmm,” Rhys grinned, “I’d like her to rip those fingers through my hair.”

Cassian rolled his eyes. “Go for it, brother.”

Rhys grinned wider. “I think I will.” He straightened up, ran a hair through his artfully mussed hair, and pulled on the lapels of his Gucci suit jacket until they were even again.

Cassian snickered into his Old Fashioned. Rhys could straighten his jacket all he wanted. He could pretend he wasn’t drunk all he wanted. It wouldn’t matter one bit.

Not with Nesta Archeron.

Nesta Archeron who hated men that stunk of trust funds and privilege more than anything else in this world.

This would be fun to watch.

Watch her try to ignore him at first. Eyes glued to the page of her book, hand reaching up to wave through the air like Rhys was an annoying fly she could swat away.

Rhys, to his credit, was a clever little bastard. He asked the bartender for a refill of her drink and set it down in front of her then sat himself one stool down from her.

He didn’t move her jacket to sit next to her, which would have had her going feral. He just sat there, waiting.

After a few moments Nesta let out an exacerbated sigh that Cassian could hear from across the room. There was his girl.

Well, not his girl. Not even a little bit his girl, but… someday.

Cassian decided that he was going to Marry Nesta Archeron the first time she kicked his ass up and down a negotiation meeting. It was a couple years ago now. He’d been young and new at his firm. She was young and new too, but the words learning curve were not in Nesta’s vocabulary. Everything she did, she did with perfection.

Including getting rid of men she didn’t want hitting on her.

She said something to his brother that made Rhys’ half drunk, cocky, smile fall halfway down his face.

Cassian would’ve given his left eye to know what she said in that moment. She had a knack for jumping at the jugular and Rhys… oh Rhys. So obvious.

After a few moments and the continual fall of Rhys’ face, Cassian decided it was time to intervene. He knocked his drink back and straightened out his own suit jacket. Armani, still overpriced and designer but not so obvious or try hard as Mr. Up On The Trends with his Gucci. Nesta appreciated classics.

Simple. Clean lines, solid colours, classic. Which was why it was so fun just how attracted she was to his half wild self.

Unlike Rhys, Cassian plucked Nesta’s light grey suit jacket up off the stool beside her and reached over her head to hang it on a coat hook at the end of the bar. Settling himself into the chair beside her like it was exactly where he belonged. Which it was.

She turned around with an indignant shriek and a fire-breathing snarl that narrowed into just a hard glare when she realized it was him. Touching.

“This guy giving you trouble, Nes?”

Rhys choked on his whiskey and Cassian fought his hardest to keep a straight face.

“I so don’t need your saviour complex right now, Cassian.” Nesta scoffed.

“No,” Rhys rolled his eyes. “She was doing perfectly well scaring off everyone in a 10 mile radius all on her own.”

Nesta smiled sweetly, “I was just playing your game.”

Rhys sputtered again. Looked up at his brother. “This devil woman that you apparently already know,” he glared, “is all yours. I’m going home.”

“Be sure to drink plenty of water!” Nesta sing songed after him. Rhys flipped them both off on his way out.

“What’d you say to him?”

Nesta smiled. A pretty, feline little thing. “He said he wanted to chat. Suggested 20 question, which is the lamest, oldest, crustiest line in the book. So I went first. Asked just how small his dick was that he felt the need to overcompensate with the swagger and the gratuitous displays of wealth. He thought he was quite clever to use his question to ask if I wanted to check for myself how not small his dick was and then I asked if his daddy never loved him and that’s where all of that machismo masking painfully obvious and deep seeded feelings of inadequacy and insecurity came from. I was going to offer him my friend’s number before you showed up. She’s an excellent therapist.”

Cassian laughed. Hard. For a very long time. He loved Rhys, but sometimes the kid could use a nice set down. It was always sweeter when delivered by a beautiful woman. Not to mention, Cassian himself had gotten the same ice cold rejection the first time he met Nesta. When he asked if she wanted to get a coffee and she looked at him like something she’d scraped off the bottom of her shoe. That Rhys was chased off so easily just proved he couldn’t take the heat.

“You know the walking trust fund, I presume?” Nesta boredly sipped the drink Rhys had bought her. And even that was somehow amusing.

“Only for the last couple decades or so,” Cassian grinned. “He’s like a brother to me.”

“Explains a lot.”

“Your insults are more impactful when you clarify which person is being insulted.”

“I was going for the two birds one stone method.”

“In that case, consider me wounded, sweetheart.”

Nesta scoffed, “Unfortunately not mortally.”

“Oh Nesta, if I weren’t here you’d die of boredom and you know it. No one else can run you up and down the courtroom like I can.” Now. Cassian grinned as he watched the word flash across her eyes. He’d never live that first blunder down.

Nesta rose an eyebrow. “Bold of you to assume you present any challenge whatsoever.”

Cassian signalled for another drink and leaned forward. “Alright, I’ll bite. Who in this entire city can give you more of a run for your money?”

“Vanserra.” Nesta looked him dead in the eye. And managed to keep a straight face. As if that wasn’t the funniest fucking thing he’d heard all day.

“Oh yes, Nepotism and Nepotism LLP certainly has us all shaking in our boots,” Cassian blew out a breath. “What are you working on now?”

“I’m working on upholding attorney-client privilege.”

“So, the Suncurser merger.”

Nesta looked up. “How did you-”

“Helion and I are old friends. I checked the zoning on the lots he was buying before the merger went ahead to make sure the expansion was even feasible. But, as you know, M&A isn’t my thing. So I may have… given him a referral.”

“Are there any rich playboys in this city that you aren’t friends with?” Nesta finished off her drink and pointedly didn’t signal for another. “And if you think I’m going to be grateful to you for sending this my way you’ve got another thing-“

“Helion is my friend.” Cassian repeated, cutting her off. “He believes in this merger and he wants it done right. You’re the best, Nesta. Why wouldn’t I send him to you?”

“It’s not just to get in my pants?” She narrowed her eyes.

Cassian laughed again. “Oh no, sweetheart. When you invite me into your bed it will have nothing to do with work. It’ll be because you’re tired of denying how much you want me.” Cassian leaned in closer, one hand resting on the back of her chair. “Tired of denying the thrill that shoots through your whole body when we lay into each other. In the court room or out.” His nose brushed against hers, just a little, and Cassian felt Nesta tense up. He smirked, mouth just inches away from hers. “Tired of denying how right this is.”

Nesta’s voice was rough, husky. “So your plan is to wear me down?”

Cassian smirked. “My plan,” his hand came up to stroke the silk covered expanse of her upper arm, “is to marry you, Nesta Archeron. But sure, we can start with wearing you down.”

***Feyre and Nesta look physically similar so you can’t tell me drunk Rhys wouldn’t hit on Nesta in a bar before realizing he’d made a terrible mistake and running away thank you***

Also tags yourself, I’m the grandma doing the crossword puzzle with a martini. She’s an icon and she is the moment.

[newtonsheffield]

Oh Molly! I am hooked. I am so hooked that you can call me the captain of the Jolly Roger. Honestly, I will grow a mustache and everything.

I can not wait to know where are you going to take us with Good Girls, but I already know that we will LOVE every single minute of the ride. Oh mamma! What a ride will it be! I need this fic like Tinkerbell needs applause to life if I am going to survive what's going on in Royals (seriously, I know now what I am going to talk in therapy next Thursday. I can already see my therapist face saying "is Molly making Kate and Anthony appart again, not making them admit their feelings? How does that make you?")

But I have to ask (If you can answer, if it's not gonna spoil anything that you have planned for us) how the "Meet the Siblings" (Bridgerton edition) is going to be, specially those who are not yet in school and Kate has never seen before.

I hope you have an amazing Sunday (or is it already Monday?) and I hope you are taking good care of your self!!

I'm gonna go and take a nap with Aristóteles!!!

Lots of love and puppy kisses!!!

Bro!

It's always comforting to know that I have reduced someone to therapy with my writing! Love that for me!

No but honestly, In the chapters to come in Royals here's what we're gonna see: Tensions bubbling over in Anthony's apartment, A very stern talking to from one, Violet Bridgerton, a Royal Weddi ng, Some guards, a wild Edwina, and a ground breaking.

So plenty still to come!

Here's a light little Headcanon to lighten the load:

Anthony buys each of his children a puppy for their second birthday. Edmund has a corgi who he names after his favourite person (Much to her dismay) and Edmund and Eddie cause quite a bit of mischief together. Miles has a Golden retriever whom he dubs Pikachu. Charlotte insists on the ugliest english bulldog Anthony has ever seen, whom she calls Buttercup. And Mary is desperate for an Old English Sheepdog called Hades Because she thinks Hercules is very funny.

Now, I do have a scene planned where Kate meets the younger Bridgertons. She's already vaguely aware of the older ones though she doesn't really know them, Edwina is the same age as Daphne. But let's just take a quick look at it

"Excuse me, Miss." Kate looked down at the small boy, his glasses flashing in the neon lights of the fair around them, tugging at her skirt.

"Are you lost buddy?" Kate crouched in front of him, checking him over for any signs of distress, but the boy was just staring back at her calmly, his Jurassic Park T-shirt lightly stained with something at Kate suspected was ice cream.

The boy shook his head. "Are you Kate?"

Kate felt herself frown a little, nodding her head. It seemed odd, but she supposed she had organised the fair, she was standing at an information booth by the entrance, with a name sticker on.

The little boy seemed to take in her response, doing a huff that seemed oddly familiar to her. "You're just as pretty as my brother said. Maybe Prettier."

Kate's heart did an odd flutter, her mind racing. "Um, who's your brother?"

"Gregory!" Anthony's voice yelled out, appearing seconds later, two other children following behind him like little ducklings, his face thunderstruck as he dropped to crouch beside his brother.

"Greggy, I told you to stay holding Daph's hand. You can't just run off like that, you really worried Mum and me." Kate could hear the panic in Anthony's voice, the worry there, something about it made her heart beat oddly for him. And she supposed that was the thing about Anthony, he was always so different than he seemed.

"Sorry, Anthony. But I wanted to meet Kate. You said she was here, but that you wouldn't get to see her, so I found her for you." Gregory was gesturing at Kate, the sweetness of it filling her heart even as Anthony flushed in the low lighting finally turning towards her.

He looked so nervous, so sorry as he stood, bustling his other ducks around him, his hand nervously in his hair.

"I'm really sorry, he sometimes just gets excited." He seemed to be curling in on himself, desperately different than the confident boy who drove her home most days, an odd intake of breath. "Um, this is me. This is my family, well part of it, You've met Greg, and these two are Eloise and Francesca."

She could tell what his nervous voice was really saying I have things to do, Kate, That's why I told you I wasn't coming tonight. That's why I pushed you away.

Kate cleared her throat. "Well, Greg and I had just decided on getting some candy floss, maybe you could help us?"

And the real problem was, when Anthony Bridgerton smiled at her like that, she forgot that she wasn't supposed to be falling in love with him.

[prof-peach]

Hello professor, I have a pretty heavy question I’m afraid, but I’m running out of people to ask, so I’ll try my best to keep it PG13.

It’s my Mienshao, Daisy. Up until recently, she and I were members of a police task force tasked with rooting out illegal Pokemon smuggling rings and underground high stakes tournaments. We’ve been partners for a long time, me and Daisy, we grew up together, and I dare say we made a great team. But then things went wrong.

For the sake of security I can’t go into too much detail, but we were participating in a raid when we got ambushed. Someone must have tipped the smugglers off, because they were waiting for us when we got there. During the firefight, there was an explosion, a gas tank got set on fire by a charizard, I believe, and Daisy and I happened to be close. She got out with a few minor burns and scrapes, I... Did not.

I’ll spare you the gory details, but I have been confined to a wheel chair ever since, and I am due to be fitted for a prosthetic leg next week.

I won’t lie, the transition has been hard for everybody, me, my friends, my family. My other Pokémon have been hovering around me like over protective nannies for weeks. But I think out of all of us, Daisy has been taking it the hardest. Half of the day she spends locked to my side like a bodyguard, threatening to punch anyone that gets too close into oblivion. And the other half, well...

She’s started putting herself through some kind of hellish self training routine. Doing katas until she all but collapses from exhaustion, running laps for hours, fighting every Pokemon she can convince to fight, wild or trained. Daisy’s always been tough, and she’s always loved training, but this... This isn’t training, it’s a death march. I’m getting extremely worried, and that’s not even everything!

She’s stopped eating her favorite foods, deliberately choosing ones I know she hates, she won’t let me pet her anymore, she just steps out of reach, trying not to look at me. But most worryingly, she’s started cutting off her whiskers. She’s always been so proud of her whiskers, she groomed them every day, always got grumpy when I teased her for having a big ol’ mustache. Now anytime they get longer than an inch, she slices them off with her claws and throws them in fireplace, like some kind ceromony.

I’m almost certain Daisy feels guilty for coming out mostly unscathed, when I didn’t. She’s always been a bit protective, even before we joined the police, and she’s saved my life multiple times out in the field, but now she feels like she’s failed me, I think. I’ve tried to convince her that it wasn’t her fault, but that only seems to redouble her efforts. I’m terrified she’s going to burn herself out if she keeps going like this, and I don’t know what to do.

I know this is a pretty heavy question, but I I’m not sure who else to ask. Is there anything I can do to convince her that she doesn’t need to hurt herself like this? Or, something? Just anything to help! Losing my leg was jarring, but losing Daisy would be unbearable!... I just... I just want my best friend to be okay.

I am sorry for what you’ve been through, I cannot begin to understand what it’s like to be in your shoes, but like all recovery, physical or mental, this will take a fair bit of time to get past, you both may never fully return to how things were, but it can get better and you can both return to a full life together with work and dedication.

I’ve certainly seen Pokemon go to extreme lengths after dangerous incidents to protect their loved ones or themselves, in this case it would be wise to assume your pokemons suffering with a hefty bill of PTSD, and needs some actual therapy to handle the feelings and thoughts they’re having. We have facilities to accommodate that if you’re local to Johto, but most Pokemon centres will be able to put you in contact with reliable and certified practices to begin unravelling the issues that now plague Daisy.

That she considers herself to have come away reasonably unscathed is not true, yes your life has physically changed, but she needs to step back and take a look at her life too. Everything’s different now, and more specifically how she’s treating herself and handling her feelings. If that’s not trauma and injury, I don’t know what else it could be. You both came away with damage that day, physical or not. The first step is to help her see that, and to begin to understand that despite this all, you can both continue to move forward together if you can overcome the injury together, it is an event you shared, and you two can aid each others recovery with time and care.

There’s some seriously gifted therapists out there, those who study for years and can help far more than me, they’ll take time to break down the events, and start to really get into the feelings that your partner is going through. The cycle for Daisy right now comes around to self-punishment, and seems to be stuck on a loop. She needs time and space to process her feelings of guilt, grief, fear and loss, facing them instead of burying herself in her rigorous training. While it is difficult to discuss, you two have a strong bond that means you could talk with her. Try to remind her who’s truly responsible, she may be blaming herself, which is pretty common in these situations, but at the root of it, you were doing your routine job, and the bad guys, the Pokemon smugglers and goons are to blame. THEY caused the issue, not her, and while it may not sink in right away it’s worth saying, and sticking to. You said you told her that it wasn’t her fault, which is the gut reaction, perhaps giving her a logical target instead of herself will work better for now. Reiterating the true issue, and taking the heat off of her may help with other tasks such as self care, later down the recovery road.

Her guilt will feel terrible, but it kind of works as a protector, keeping her distanced from the worse, more overwhelming feelings of helplessness and powerlessness. In fact the guilt that masks this all will slowly make things worse over time. That underlying intense emotion below the guilt is what you both need to work through, but more than anything, she needs to face it, in her own time, come to terms with it, and eventually (hopefully) come to an understanding that life is an endless cycle of events, things will happen, but you have to pick yourself up and turn the lemons into lemonade. She could have lost you that day, that you came away with your life is a miracle, and now you two get more time together because of that. Luck isn’t something that runs out, it’s not like there’s only so much of it to go around, it is like wining the lottery. Sometimes 20 people win, other times no one does. It’s hard to accept, but there’s no greater order to stuff that happens, but when we can come to this conclusion, it’s oddly freeing. I’ve seen a fair few Pokemon in a symilar state who can move on when they realise there’s an odd randomness to the world and everything that goes on.

This is a job for someone with far greater skills than I, but you must help her by also looking after yourself, laugh when you can, show her that your life is still very full, and that you have loved ones, and joy to share with others. You mentioned that you’re due a prosthetic, and though the transition will be long and no doubt a little difficult at first, getting yourself back on two feet (kind of) will show her, and your other Pokemon that you’re willing to move forward. I think there’s a lot to be said about talking during this all. She wants to fight, to be strong, if this is how she’s going to cope, fine. If she’s out training, sit with her, spend whatever time you can by her side, as she’s taking this the hardest. You don’t have to say a thing, just try to do your best, without putting yourself in too much discomfort or pain. Reminding her who would be devastated if it had been her who got hurt, if she was not around, may help ground her back in reality a bit. You both got granted a gift that day, you came away alive, if she works so hard she burns out, that gift was wasted. She can use her kindness, and strength to help you, she can pass her knowledge and skill forward, but it’s hard to help others, and do your best if you’re exhausted beyond reason. Kind of like trying to give people bread from a basket but the damn basket is empty yknow? You got to take time to refill so you can help those around you again, so you have some bread to give. I know, probably sounds a little dumb but it’s always been the way I remember it.

Another very useful thing I’ve found with trauma survivors would be meeting others who have been in the same position. There’s plenty of support groups for both people and Pokemon who have been through events that left them in a difficult situation, emotionally and physically. Even here at the lab we have many species who have been left without limbs, with life changing damage, and a lot of them also have the emotional trauma too. She would probably do well to spend time with them, you can send her to a resort to retreat and recoup erase, mix with others who were just as angry as she is now, or you can take time to go with her to groups to interact with others. It’s one thing to have humans help, but it’s a whole other level of connection when Pokemon can help their own. They bond quicker, trust faster, and generally are more open to listening when it’s coming from a place of mutual experience. If she had time to talk to pokemon who actually lost their trainers, or parts of themselves, she may find some peace, even if only temporarily.

Don’t mention the whiskers, and where possible don’t offer her foods she actively likes, but also not ones she actively dislikes. Just for now. Start the ball rolling with just plain simple things that are neither good or bad. Indifferent is better than bad right now, the punishment she’s inflicting on herself will need addressing further, so contact a therapist, they use Rotom or porygon to translate from poke-speech to human language, and the repair can begin with a registered professional. My advice is not sound proof, I certainly feel like I have missed something important, it’s a big response, but it’s a start in the right direction, and should you come up to any further issues, message back and update us with what’s going on. With work you two will be on track to recover. Remember, patience is the biggest thing here, you two have history, and a therapist will no doubt take the sessions as a pair, and work with you to help Daisy feel less guilty over time. I hope you both find peace, and that both of you repair in due time. Good luck with the new leg, a step towards recovery for sure.

[tarotinapinch]

Pile One: Green Fluorite Tower

1. Soul Gift: What you came here to express and share with the world.

*Portal: Doors are opening. You decide. Rewards. Wild Card.

*Share Your Voice: Come out of the cave. Persecution. Expression.

*Death

*Joy

You came here to share your own unique voice, one that is different than anyone else in this world. You may have been raised a certain way, but you are meant to break the mold and transform yourself into someone who is so vibrant and full of joy. You are meant to make your own decisions, unaffected by other people's opinions. Sharing your voice with the world could mean so many different things, whether it be singing, writing, becoming a licensed therapist, doing private readings for people or sharing public readings for the collective, being an influencer on social media, or even making YouTube videos ranting about your personal experiences. The possibilities are quite endless. But you have a specific calling that feels right to you. Go after it, that is your life purpose and you are meant to share these gifts to help raise the collective consciousness.

2. Karmic Wound: What you came here to heal.

*You Got The Love: Hadarian Energy. Codependency. Boundaries

*Keepers of the Earth: You are not alone. Ancient Ancestors stand beside you.

*Take Risk

*Authentic Truth

You have a major karmic wound within your blood family ancestry and that wound is named codependency. I could probably write an entire book on my own experience with this subject, but the main focus for you right now is how to set healthy boundaries. You very well could have grown up with a lack of boundaries as a kid and even into adulthood. Your immediate family could struggle with boundaries with themselves, therefore cross yours more often than you'd like to realize. Boundaries aren't hard to learn, but they can definitely be hard to practice, especially when those around you do not know how to set healthy ones. Here's some good news, though: you are the one who is meant to break and heal this family curse of unhealthy boundaries and codependency. Does this feel like a huge undertaking? I'd be lying if I said that it wasn't. But here's some more good news: although this may be quite the quest to take on, the solution is super simple. All you have to do is take the risk to live your most authentic life, to do what you want to do and be who you want to be at a soul level. These ancestral patterns will break and the healing will start, all just by you being unapologetically you and living only within your truth. Setting boundaries with yourself and with your family to uphold your promise to yourself about living authentically won't exactly be easy, but it will get easier with time and practice. Remember that it's normal to feel guilty when you first start setting boundaries, but also know that feeling guilty does not mean that it's the wrong thing to do. Start small, take it one step at a time. Before you know it, you'll be in such a better place and ready to take the next, even bigger step for spiritual journey.

If you would like to do some self-help research of your own, I highly recommend that you get your hands on a copy of Set Boundaries, Find Peace by Nedra Tawwab. Her book is the how-to manual on learning everything about boundaries. The way that she writes is so easy to understand and absorb. No psychobabble, just real talk and experiences.

3. Life Lessons: What you came here to learn.

*All Paths Lead Home: Inner authority. Intuition. Turn your gaze within.

*Deep Replenishment: Retreat. Rest. Be held.

*The Wildling

*Divine Animals

You came here to learn that no matter what path you choose to go down, no matter how crazy it may seem, you will always find yourself going the right way. In fact, the "crazier" your choice may seem to others, the more likely it's what is meant for you. You will never make the wrong choice, you will always end up home, whatever that word may mean for you. Your intuition is always on point and you're here to learn how to follow that inner voice with confidence, even if you may not be able to see the path forward at certain points in your life. You are also here to learn when to give yourself a break. You're a hard worker, perhaps brought up and taught that "there's no free handouts” and that you need to work hard in order to achieve anything in life. As much as we hear this "advice" from society, it's quite the toxic mindset. You should /never/ have to overwork yourself to the point of burnout just to be comfortable. You need passion and focus, of course, but those things do not have the same definition as "hard work". If you really enjoy what you do, then the "work" should be easy and fun for you. The more easy and fun the "work" is, the more time you can spend doing it without burning out and the more money you can earn. The more money you can earn, the more time you can take away to rest, rejuvenate, take a vacation, and care for yourself it whatever other means you feel necessary. Animals may also play a major role in your life whether they just be family pets that you have a close bond with, part of how you wind down and destress, or they could even be a part of your career. Whatever the case may be, you definitely have some important animal friends in your life that were sent by your guides to be a spiritual companion.

4. Current Obstacle: The thing that's challenging you the most.

*Star Ancestors: Hidden secrets. Lost Wisdom. Look a little deeper.

*Dance With Life: Do something to change your energy.

*The Outlaw

*Let Go

The hardest thing for you right now could very well just being able to feel like you can be yourself and do what you want to do without the fear of judgement from others. You may be feeling a bit stuck in a rut, our energy becoming a bit too stagnant for your liking and only adding to the stuck feeling. Know this: no one is holding you back or keeping you stuck. The only person in the entire Universe that can do that is your own self. So you can move and change your energies any time that you wish to. But you may be having a hard time letting go of the way things are because the logical part of your brain tells you "but this worked in the past, so why can't it continue to work now? Why shake things up when everything seems to be running okay?" True, it may have worked in the past, and it may be running okay now. But that doesn't mean that you are okay with how things are, nor does it mean that you have to accept things as they are if the energies don't vibe with you anymore. We are constantly evolving and therefore what we are comfortable with and what we are no longer comfortable with also fluctuate many times during the course of our existence. Do not fear what others may think, or the judgements they may make. This will only hold you back. The only opinion that you need be worried about is your own. As long as you are doing things for you that make you feel good about yourself and you are not intentionally harming others, then you're doing the right thing! Take a minute to meditate, clear your mind of anyone else's thoughts or opinions and ask yourself directly, "What do I want to do? What is it that would make me happy?" Whatever answer you come to that is not tainted with your family's, friends', or even society's opinions, is the true answer that you are seeking to follow.

5. Soul Calling: What your soul is calling you toward.

*Wait: It's not yet time. Things are being woven. 

*Don't Dim to Fit In: How are you dimming your light in order to fit in?

*The Observer

*Focus

Right now is a time for some observance. Hold on a minute. Take a step back and really focus on your life and where you are currently heading. Are you doing the things that you truly want to do? Or are you doing things because you feel the need to fit in with others or with society as whole? Are you dimming down your true, vibrant personality because you feel like you need to fit a certain mold to get by or to be successful? If any of these questions ring true for you, spirit is telling you it is not time to move forward quite yet. Only move forward when you know that you are moving towards what /you/ want for you, not what others want for you. Stop dimming that beautiful personality down. Let it shine brightly like the stunning star that you are. Once you start living within this energy, really focused on your personal wants and needs, that's when it will be time to move forward with the next stage of your life.

6. Guidance Message from your Spiritual Team

*Seeker of Coins

*Become Aware: Create Space today to connect with your body. Find a comfortable place and close your eyes, bringing your awareness to your physical form. How does it feel? What does it speak to you? Do hidden emotions reside within? After you have connected with your body, ask yourself what your body needs in this moment

*Forgiveness

*Following the path of another. Your path is being redirected to where it should be.

Your guides want you to know that what you are meant to do for "work" in this life is quite different than what those around you do. I put "work" in quotation marks because I believe that if we are aligned with the right career path, "work" will never feel like work, it will just feel like a fulfilling and fun life that provides you with all that you need and more. These cards suggest that perhaps there is a family business or perhaps a career path that almost everyone in your family follows that you feel you are expected to follow as well. Just because your family follows this path doesn't mean that you have to as well. And you don't need your family's or anyone else's approval to go after the career choice that you truly long for. Maybe you've felt a pull to this path for a long time somewhere deep in your bones, but have kept putting it off to appease others, or for the fact that it seemed easier to follow an already paved road rather than to clear a path of your own. Whatever the case may be, forgive yourself for the time that you spent dwelling on this. You did not waste time, this time only made you realize what you did not want, and that is very important. Also forgive those around you who seemed to be persuading or pushing you in a different direction than what you really wanted. At the end of the day, they were most likely just trying to help you achieve the goal that they think you wanted. Don't be afraid to speak up for yourself and your needs. Express how you truly feel about things and start to go after the choices that feel right for you. Your true family and friends will respect and support your decisions and you will always be supported by the universe when you go after your dreams to make them a reality.  

[blueluneacy]

Confessions

AAAAAAAAND WE DID IT BOYS! Yes, I am posting this late. no, I do not care. it’s the TA!Jotaro/reader first place fic!

Word Count: 4k

Also on AO3!

Warnings: not sfw, slight manhandling, bratty ass reader, slight dubcon if you squint, cumming inside

Maybe this wasn't the best outfit to wear to lecture. It really did fit rather tightly around your ass, and god, if you lifted your arms, half of your torso showed. It really didn’t leave anything to the imagination, but who cared? I mean, maybe, but also, you didn’t care much. I mean, what was the worst that could happen, right? Your TA stares at you the entire class? Newsflash, he does that anyway. It was so obvious that Jotaro Kujo had a thing for you, and it honestly boosted your self confidence at least tenfold. He was attractive, strong, and smart. Anyone attracted to men would want to be with a guy like that, but he kept to himself mostly. If you weren’t more perceptive, or maybe if he wasn’t so weird about it all, then you probably wouldn’t have noticed in the first place. But the way his eyes seemed to keep on you for a moment too long, the way he lingered by your desk for just a moment longer than everyone else, the way he almost seemed to freeze up when he heard your voice, it was all too obvious. 

But then, why didn’t Kujo admit it? You were constantly dropping hints at this point that you were interested, often loudly talking about how you were single and looking for a partner while you knew Jotaro was in earshot, but he wouldn’t bite. Not that you were interested in him or anything… Well, that’s a lie. You totally were interested in him, but Jotaro was interested  in you first, so he had to be the one to admit that he liked you. Those were the rules. Totally.

But, alas, you didn’t have much time to really consider the pros and cons of your outfit. You only had Kujo’s discussion today, thank god. It should be a crime to have class on Friday anyway, not to mention that it was at ten in the morning. It should be illegal to have a class this early. Yes, you were at this point nocturnal, but you were also in college. You don’t exist before noon. So naturally, you were up getting ready for your class way later than when you told yourself at three AM last night, and you kind of had to get a move on.  You already had forfeited a real breakfast, stuffing bagels into your backpack and eating them during your discussion would have to do. 

So you headed off on the uneventful walk to your class. Thank god it wasn’t on the other side of campus, otherwise you probably wouldn’t have come for most of the semester. It was always such a hassle to get all the way over there, you didn’t want to deal with it. You couldn’t remember if you actually checked where this class was when you signed up for it, so you couldn’t be certain if this was some sort of foresight on your sight, or just plain luck. Either way, you got to the classroom pretty quickly, sitting down exactly 2 minutes before class was supposed to actually start. You snagged a seat towards the back so you could eat your bagels in peace, but still seem like you were totally paying attention. Jotaro’s eyes on you didn’t go unnoticed, but you couldn’t care to comment on them now, too invested in the idea of food as you pulled out your notebook to take notes on whatever was going to be rambled on about. Jotaro stayed on topic with your chapter, but he seemed to have preferences in what he was talking about. You could tell that what he enjoyed talking about and what he didn’t, because it just showed in the way his tone changed based on the topic. But today… Well, you weren’t paying so much attention to what Jotaro was saying, as the tone of his voice. His voice seemed lower than usual, with a strange gravelly quality to it. Was he sick? I mean, his eyes were on you, they tended to be, but they seemed so much more glued onto you than they were before. You took a bite of your bagel, not even remembering the outfit you decided to wear today and the possible effect that it might have on the man you were certain was at least mildly attracted to you. Nah, you were too busy with that damn bagel. 

So, you let yourself get lost in the cantor of Jotaro’s voice as he talked about this or that regarding this biology course. Truly, you could care less. He was just spitting out everything that the professor had to say during lecture, so why bother? You had your notes and you were fairly sure you understood everything that was discussed. And if you found when you finally reviewed your notes that you had no idea what was going on, then you could go to the million review sessions that were available to you before the text. It would really be fine, absolutely no worries. And thank god, discussions were only fifty minutes. You told yourself that you were going to go back to your dorm and study after this, but you knew deep in your heart that you were going to scroll through social media for an hour, get an early lunch, and then go back to sleeping until like five, where you would rouse yourself and prepare to forget the entirety of your evening. Well… At least, that was the plan, anyway.

And that was that. Class ended without a hitch, and you slowly started to pack up your stuff. It seemed so tiring to have all these people try to cram information into your head so quickly, but alas. College was needed for basically every job industry these days, there was no way really out of it. That didn’t mean you weren’t going to complain on an almost daily basis though. You were thinking about whether or not bacon was going to be left when Jotaro’s voice cut through your thoughts, forcefully and without shame.

“(Y/n). A word after everyone clears out.” You would smirk at that, but the tone of Jotaro’s voice wasn’t what you expected. It seemed frustrated, almost angry. Oh fuck, what had you done wrong now? What possibly could you have done to get yourself in trouble, the whole time you were just sitting in the back and… Wait, was eating in class allowed? Oh no. Oh god, were you really going to get called out for fucking eating a bagel? Life was truly cruel. 

You swallowed as you watched everyone trail out of the room, silently pleading that someone stay, keep you from this nightmare that was confrontation. God, when you said you wanted Jotaro to talk to you, you didn’t mean like this! But everyone left, the door was closed behind Jotaro, and you lugged yourself over to the front of the room to sit across from his teacher’s desk. You didn't even notice how Jotaro locked the door.

“I assume you know why you’re here.” His voice seemed so careful, measured as he sat down, and for once, his piercing eyes made you shrink into your seat. But no, you couldn’t just give in and give up now! You had to be strong! Or, at least act like you were strong.

“Yeah, and I’m not sorry, it was just a bagel, dude. If you have to get your power fantasy from yelling at me for fulfilling a basic need, then maybe see a therapist.” You crossed your arms, vaguely noticing how it pulled your top just a little lower. Jotaro snorted and shook his head, actually amused at how confident you were. About the completely wrong thing, but hey. You really had the spirit.

“You really think I would give a damn about a some stupid bread? You know, I thought you were maybe playing hard to get, but maybe you’re just dense.” He replied, leaving you just a bit shocked. You were so trapped in the euphoria of bread that you forgot you were wearing clothes specifically meant to drive Jotaro wild. “You think I wouldn’t notice your little stunt. I ought to tear off that little outfit and fuck you over this counter like you deserve.” There was a certain growl in Jotaro’s voice that left your knees weak, and you struggled to keep up with the sudden change of demeanor. Maybe you didn’t know Jotaro as well as you liked to think you did, not able to read him as well as previously interpreted. Still, you did your best to pull yourself together, hoping to strike back with some semblance of wit. Even if Jotaro was expressing some sort of feelings for you, you weren’t just going to show all your cards now. Best to keep bluffing and see how the match turns out.

“If that’s what I deserve, I’m not sure I have many objections. But are you actually going to do it, or are you just going to continue to sit there and talk?” You let a smile crawl across your face as Jotaro’s expression got darker, and in what seemed to be instant, he was on the other side of the desk, his lips crashing against yours. You gasped against the kiss, allowing Jotaro to push him tongue into your mouth as his hands reached your hips, grabbing onto them tight. He remained there for a good moment, pulling away when you were finally gasping to put air back in your lungs. He just growled as he used the moment to help pull your top off, throwing it to the side as his eyes took in your form.

“Such a dirty thing, dressing up like that. You like the attention, don’t you? You should only be seen like that by me.” He leaned in to run a hand through your hair as you eagerly moved to unbutton Jotaro’s shirt, ready to get this moving as much as he was. “You’re fucking mine, no one else should be allowed to see you like that.” He replied. You just laughed and hummed as Jotaro shrugged off his coat, ready to bite back just a bit.

“Oh, I’m yours now? I don’t recall that ever being something we agreed upon. Maybe I’m missing something? Like the part where you confessed your feelings to me?” You teased, Jotaro’s freed arm wrapping around you to bring you just a bit closer. It was like if he didn’t hang onto you, you might flutter away, like sand slipping through his fingers, never to return.

“I’ll make you mine then, fuck. You don’t know what you do to me, how many nights I’ve been awake without you there. I love you, you should’ve figured that out by now.” Jotaro grumbled a bit, almost childishly. You paused for a moment, before laughing a bit, shaking your head. God, maybe the reason Jotaro was so quiet was that he never could get out his words in a cool way. When he started talking in a way that wasn’t explicitly planned out, it was almost like he was just saying the first words that came into his brain. Well, maybe he was. Who can say. 

“I know. I was just waiting for you to come out and say it. I couldn’t tell if you were shy or just denying your feelings, so I figured I would give you time in case it was the latter.” Well, that was a total lie. You just wanted a cute confession where Jotaro was all blushing and shit, but that was all out the window now anyway, so who cared?

“Liar. You just were being a sadist.” He chuckled a bit, leaving you just to roll your eyes as you slowly moved down to your knees. Well, fuck it. The two of you were horny, and if you were keeping your shirt off, you were at least going to get a little action here. 

“Maybe I am. Wouldn’t you like to know?” You replied, moving to unbuckle Jotaro’s belt. Belts? It was confusing. Either way, you got the damn thing unbuckled and moved to Jotaro’s zipper, noticing the massive bulge that was clearly straining against Jotaro’s trousers. Jotaro was a big guy, so it would make sense that it would translate to that, but still. Gulp.

“You seem nervous all of a sudden. Why’s that?” You just rolled your eyes at Jotaro’s smirk, slightly tempted to tease him further just for looking that smug at you. But no, not today. Another time, maybe, but not today. You reached and yanked down his pants and underwear without much fanfare. He let a low growl out of his throat from the action, but you were more focused on the size of Jotaro in general. What was your plan for all of this again? You weren’t sure, but mama didn’t raise no quitter. You just leaned in and wrapped your hand around the base of Jotaro’s shaft, looking up at him coyly.

“I’m not nervous at all. Don’t you worry about a thing.” You told Jotaro before leaning forward, hollowing out your cheeks and wrapping your lips around Jotaro’s cock. He immediately let out a groan and let a hand rest on top of your head, his fingers weaving through your hair but not gripping down, allowing you to adjust and set your own pace. You saw Jotaro’s blissful expression and felt just a bit of pride well up in you, knowing that you were the one who caused him that. You slowly moved your head, only being able to reach about halfway before you hit the back of your throat, your body threatening to choke on him, but you make up for it by using your hand on what your lips couldn’t reach. 

You moved at a slow, worshipful pace, taking in the expression on Jotaro’s face as well as slowly working on getting your throat to relax so you could take Jotaro deeper. You could tell he was holding himself back from making any sounds, his teeth digging into his bottom lip so hard you swore that he was going to make himself bleed. You couldn't help but rub your own legs together, unable to sate that aching heat that was pooling in your gut, leaving you to let out a small moan. The vibrations only seemed to spur Jotaro on, unable to stop himself from bucking his hips slightly. You gasped, pulling away from a moment to take a breath, before smirking up at Jotaro.

“You couldn’t help yourself, huh? I bet you would like it if I let you-” You couldn’t get your words out before Jotaro’s grip on your hair tightened, pulling you forward and back down onto his cock. You gagged as he pushed all the way back into your throat, but he just groaned, rubbing your head slightly as if to comfort you. You moaned just a little, willing your throat to loosen just a bit, letting your own fingers dig into your pants as you whimpered at the heat inside of you.

“You talk too much. Just let me… That’s it, that’s better…” Jotaro’s voice was low, akin to something almost guttural as he began to move in your mouth, holding you tight enough to keep you still, but not so tight that you couldn’t move if you truly wanted to. You did your best to stay put, at least. It was actually sort of hot to be manhandled like this, not that you would ever admit that to him. You just moaned and did your best to breathe through your nose as Jotaro had his way with you, relishing in the way his hips would stutter just a little whenever you took the initiative to use your tongue or moan on you. You felt your drool start to drip down your chin as Jotaro’s hips stuttered a bit more, and you could tell that he was close to cumming. But it seemed that right before he actually did, he quickly pulled himself out of your mouth, leaving you to sputter and gasp for a moment. But that moment didn’t last long, Jotaro easily moving forward to push you to the ground, immediately moving to pull off your pants and underwear. You squeaked as your back hit the ground, Jotaro moving in to press his lips against your neck as he pressed up against your entrance.

“Fuck, I bet you would be so tight for me.... Please, let me, I want you so badly…” Jotaro groaned, and if you were any more lost in your own lust, you might actually say yes. But, your own rationality was enough to tell you that Jotaro was far too big, and you were not in the slightest prepared.

“J-Jotaro, please… You know you’re too big, I’m not ready yet… Soon, I just got to be prepared a bit…” You replied, and although Jotaro pouted just a bit, he obliged. You moved to use your own fingers, but Jotaro quickly swatted you away, pushing one of his own inside of you. You immediately let out a soft whimper. God, Jotaro’s hands were way bigger than yours, but still, you weren’t expecting something like this. You felt your toes curl as Jotaro poked and prodded inside of you, adding another finger to help scissor you open.

“G-God, Jotaro… Feels so good, fuck…” You whined, moving to drape your arms over Jotaro’s shoulders and try to pull him closer. It was nice to feel just his skin against yours. He felt so much warmer than you, like his heat was trying to swallow you up, bring you closer to him. Whatever it was, it was working. As Jotaro slowly worked you open, you felt your knees go a bit weak, Jotaro’s lips and occasional teeth on your neck enough to make you moan. Pray to god there isn’t meant to be a class here anytime soon.

You let out a displeased grumble as Jotaro pulled his fingers out of you, your body clamping around him in an attempt to keep him inside of you. Although you were still probably shittily prepared, it was enough for you to throw out all reason as Jotaro moved back to rut against you, a low growl coming from his throat enough to make you quiver.

“Beg for it. Beg for me to fuck you.” His voice was in your ear as he threatened to nip at it, unable to control his mouth from bruising you wherever he got access. Still, you weren’t opposed to the idea of begging. If it meant getting what you wanted, you might do anything.

“F-Fuck, please, Jotaro! Need you, need you so bad! I love you, please, I love you so much, want you to fuck me, please!” You barely registered the words coming out of your mouth, but Jotaro’s eyes widened and left him almost sputtering as he pushed inside of you, groaning as your nails dug into his shoulders. He pushed in slowly, staying still as he could while you adjusted to him. There was certainly a sting from the stretch, but it wasn’t anything that you couldn’t handle. You took a deep breath and tried to regain any semblance of self you had, only for Jotaro to start moving again, and you lost your composure all over again. 

Jotaro let his nails dig into your hips hard enough to draw blood, gripping you tightly as he began to thrust into you at a brutal pace, leaving you to moan as you tried to pull Jotaro ever closer.

“Tell me that you love me. Tell me again, please. Tell me, god, tell me over and over…” Jotaro groaned, and god, you were more than happy to oblige. Who even cares if you spilled the beans first in a technical sense? Maybe you said the words first, but Jotaro was more than happy to show his affection. Hey, you weren’t about to complain about it. 

“Fuck, love you, Jotaro. Love you so much, loved you since I first saw you, fuuuck, there, feels so good, I love you, please!” You whined out, Jotaro just growling and moving faster. You tried to move, to grind your hips against Jotaro the best you could, but Jotaro just held you in place, refusing to let you move. He was content in fucking you until you could barely move at his own pace, which just so happened to be as fast as humanly possible.

“I love you too, (Y/n). You’re mine, all mine, I love you so much, don’t ever leave me. Please, say you’re mine, I’m yours!” Jotaro growled, pressing his forehead against yours in an attempt to gain just a bit more contact with you.

“All yours, Jotaro, all yours! God, I’m gonna cum, please!” You whined out, feeling your body start to tighten and flutter on Jotaro’s cock, the coil in your belly threatening to snap at any moment you would let it. Jotaro just groaned, your words spurring him on to move faster, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he felt himself coming to a close.

“Fuck, cum with me, please, fuck, gonna cum inside you, fill you up, all mine, god-!” He groaned, snapping his hips forward one last time before you felt a warm heat start to fill you up, enough to push you over the edge and leave you clawing down Jotaro’s back, your eyes rolling into your skull. 

The two of you sat like that for a while, bodies pressed against each other as the two of you caught your breath, basking in each other’s presence. After a few minutes, Jotaro finally pulled out and let his lips catch against yours, pulling you into a sloppy kiss. You heartily pressed back into it, letting yourself melt into it as the two of you shared this tender moment.But, as soon as it began, it seemed to end, with Jotaro pulling himself up and starting to redress himself. You pouted, looking up at him.

“I guess you’re not the cuddling type.” You were half teasing, crossing your arms just a little to show you were just the slightest bit upset. Jotaro just rolled his eyes.

“I’m not a fan of cuddling on dirty classroom floors, no. You should have higher standards for yourself.” He replied, leaving you only to laugh.

“You didn’t mind the floor when we were-” You teased, but Jotaro only rolled his eyes and cut you off.

“Shut up. I swear, I don’t know how I’m going to survive you as a partner.” Jotaro replied as he pulled his belt on. The comment made you pause. Partners?

“W-What do you mean by that? Are you saying we’re dating now?” You asked, feeling your cheeks start to heat up just the slightest bit.

“What else? Seriously, you don’t know how to read the room at all.” Jotaro sighed, holding his hand out to you. You paused for a moment before taking it gingerly, only to be yanked up and pulled into Jotaro’s arms. You gasped, feeling yourself pressed up against Jotaro as he held you in his arms.

“Hey. I love you, you know.” You whispered, unable to keep the words from dribbling out of your mouth. It was quick, quiet, as if you didn’t want Jotaro to hear. As if it was some big secret, or that you were afraid that his strong arms would let you go if he heard those words. But he held onto you still, keeping you close to his chest as his hand brushed through your hair. It was almost tender, in a way that made your already jelly knees weaken.

“Don’t worry. I love you too.” Jotaro replied, leaning in to press a kiss against your lips. You let your arms wrap around him, praying that this was no dream. 

But this was real, thank god, and you never felt more at home than you did right now.

[idontknowijuststartedsomething]

Gravity, Ghosts, and Gems

Part 3/???

The New Kids

Part 3

Steven could see his answer did little to reassure or calm his trembling roommate. “Hey, I’m still me. A-And I’m not going to hurt you! I just..... Let’s just talk.”

“So, how did you get white hair and a cool jumpsuit?” Steven tried to talk to Danny more casually, as he could see his panic from their shared dream had not gone away.

“Well, to understand you would first have to know my parents are ghost hunters. Or ghost scientists they never really make it clear.”

“Wait, like spooky horror movie dead people ghosts?”

“Yeah.”

“Wait ghosts are real?!”

“Yes” Danny’s voice was growing more annoyed.

“I’ve gotta tell Sadie” Steven whispered to himself, stars in his eyes.

“What?”

“Uhhhh nothing. Continue.”

“So yeah my parents study ghosts. And for years they’d been working on a portal to the ghost world. They wanted to prove to everyone that they weren’t crazy, and they also just wanted to learn everything about ghosts.” Danny became less tense as he told his story. He’s had to keep it a secret for so long that now telling anyone felt like a major relief. “So after like years they finally got it into working order. Except it didn’t turn on. No matter what they tried it just wouldn’t go. They were really bummed and got discouraged for a while, but me and my friends still wanted to check it out.”

Steven listened intently as Danny told him about the accident. Sam, Tucker, the jumpsuit, the flash. Everything just sounded so painful. Part of Steven just wanted to reach out and hug Danny, but Steven restrained himself because he knew they weren’t there yet. After all Danny probably still though Steven was a big scary pink lady. So Steven just kept listening as Danny told him everything. About Vlad. About his parents hunting him. About Danielle. About his older self. By the time Danny had gotten to him revealing himself to his folks, Steven was ready to cry. Steven could never imagine how much pain Danny had gone through. And yet he could see it vividly. He could see it in his own life story, stretched out over years and galaxies, and only now being properly dealt with between him and his therapist.

“So yeah, I’m half ghost and I protect the world. Well mostly my town but you get the point. And nobody knows but my family and friends. And I guess you, now. So what’s your story. Did your parents make a portal that fused you with some pink lady?” Danny had said that jokingly, but Steven’s emotions were still weird, both from hearing Danny’s story and now having to tell his own.

“Well, I’m half gem, so I’m kinda like you, but my gem powers didn’t come from an accident. You see, my mom was a gem who...”

“Wait, wait, wait. What are gems? I know you have that thing on your stomach but like, what does it do?”

“Ok so now I have to go way back. Gems are an alien species whose physical forms are just projections from their gemstone. All gems have one, and they can all do different things. Some gems also come together to make...”

“Wait back up. You’re saying you’re..... an alien?”

“Well technically half alien on my mom’s side. But I’ve spent my whole life here on earth.”

“So aliens actually exist?” Danny could barley process what he was hearing. Every NASA scientist he had looked up to was wrong. All of their data and calculations were disproven by the mere existence of this kid standing infront of him. Could he be the first junior astronaut to make contact with alien life?

Danny could tell that Steven was waiting for him to stop being confused. His look said it all. So Danny put back on the chill persona he had had before and let Steven continue. He was gripped by the rich tapestry Steven had woven with his words. A rebellious princess(that’s who the big pink lady was), a secret taken to the grave, a war for the fate of the planet, a tale of love found and love lost. All to produce the spunky little kid who was Steven Universe. He told Danny about his similar face offs with villians of his own kind. About the new family he found along the way and how he saved two planets with love. Steven told Danny a bit about his breakdown following Homeworld’s reconstruction, but left it very vague. He mentioned that he hurt Jasper and that he reached his breaking point and blew up in front of his family. But he just left it at that. At least for now, Danny didn’t need to know about the monster that terrorized Beach City. At least for now, Danny could see him as kind of normal.

“So that’s basically it. And then I wanted to experience life outside of gem stuff. So I got in my car and started exploring and being more human. And then I found this job offer online and though it would be a good experience for me, and so here we are.”

“That’s wild.” Danny said, reacting to Steven’s life story. “And that’s kinda what happened to me to. I wanted to get away from ghosts and stuff for a bit. I found this job offer and my parents assured me that they could take care of any ghost business in town, so I packed some stuff and flew here last night.”

“That explains why you were so tired today!”

“Yeah. Even at 112 mph, Illinois to Oregon is a long trip. And I was carrying a bunch of my stuff and had to avoid any major city areas.”

They both laughed, their defenses completely down, as they recognized a trust between them that hadn’t been there before. Neither of them had got entirely comfortable when Steven remembered another thing he had noticed earlier.

“Did you see the room of that Dipper kid who lives here? His walls were covered with conspiracy and supernatural related stuff.”

“Yeah. I was able to recognize part of my parents in that kid.” At that thought Danny came to a realization. “Which means we probably shouldn’t tell him about any of this.”

“Yeah.” Steven agreed. “He’s either gonna want to ask us a million questions...”

“Or strap us down to a table and rip us apart molecule by molecule.” The tone of the room got considerably darker, as Danny realized what ‘being like his parents’ actually meant. They both sat silently for a few moments, neither knowing how to respond. Finally, Steven spoke.

“So no one finds about about us? At least until we know we can trust them. Like be 100% certain that they’re gonna be cool with us” Steven was trying to stear the conversation into a more hopeful direction, and it kinda worked.

“Yeah” Danny answered, lifting is head, a slightl smile now returning to his face. “Besides, is not like there’s evil ghost or aliens running around here. In Gravity Falls. So we should have no problem keeping our powers on the down low.”

“Yeah” Steven laughed. “Everything seems normal here. What do we have to worry about?” With that, both decided to finally go to sleep, secure in the knowledge that nothing weird happens in Gravity Falls.

Right?

[kingsuckjin]

Just Smile -2

✷Paring: joker!jk x reader, robin! jin x reader, bts x reader

✷ Genre: bts batman au

✷Description: Description: All you’ve ever wanted was to help, that’s all. When you landed a job at Arkham asylum (possibly unjustly), you thought maybe you could help the poor souls locked away there. You were apprehensive about meeting one in particular, the worst criminal of his time, the infamous Jeon Jungkook, well known around Gotham as the Joker. But what if this man isn’t what the rumors and his records say he is? What if he saw you as the one needing help? You only had to do him one small favor and he could make every dream you’ve ever had could come true, he could take all the pain away and you would never want for anything ever again. Could what he offers be the truth? You can’t say you weren’t warned about him.

✷ Warnings: mention of kooks facial scars and self harm, the security isn't nice to kook, talk of mental disorders, talk of violence, depression, self loathing, idk if I forgot something please let me know

✷Words: 3.9k

prev // Next

--Series Masterlist--

"Jeon Jungkook: age 22, displays sociopathic behavior, physically aggressive."

The last two words were ones that no therapist wanted to read, it was intimidating.

You thought about just closing the case file and just thinking about how to approach this. 

You were told you had to see this guy every single day, more than the hand full of others you were assigned to. You thought maybe your new boss was giving you the toughest case first just to see if he could break you, get you to quit.

You sighed as you glanced back down at the file of Jungkook on your desk and urged yourself to read further, it was important that you knew what he's done and what he could do. 

The lists of things he had done read like a novel and was probably just as long as one too. "Sentenced to Arkham Asylum by pleasing insanity under the sentences and accusations of: poisoning the city's water supply, which was considered an act of terrorism. Also thought to be involved in causing the disappearance of over forty people." the list just kept going on and on. 

You felt sick at your stomach making you close the file.

You wondered how you would even go about making a treatment plan for a man this vicious. You decided you couldn't, not until you met with him first. Meeting with him would be most of the battle. Would he try to snap your neck on the spot? Would he yell and scream at you?

To be honest, you were afraid. But all you could do was suck it up and act like the professional you were. 

"He's ready" a member of staff poked his head through the cracked door of your new office. You knew who he was talking about, you knew who was ready, but were you? 

You plastered a fake smile across your face and stood from your seat.

"Okay- I- I- um. That's great!" You tried to act as cheerful as you could given the unsettling feeling you had in your stomach.

"I'll be taking you to where you'll be meeting with him. You've had time to look over his files, right?"  He asked as you left the office with the hospital staff and walked out into the too brightly lit hallway. 

"Yes, of course." but you felt as though “barely” would have been more accurate reply.

"So you've seen the list of what this piece of shit has done." 

"I-I-" it was hardly professional to be calling a patient a name like that "I have." But you agreed anyway.

"Just making sure, you really need to be warned about this guy. Last week he tried to bite another guy's finger off and he's been in isolation ever since." 

"Oh." Left your mouth as your thoughts blanked out with it, all but one which was”

Dear god, what did I agree to?

"Is locked up though, on his meds, and there will be a guard in the room just in case." 

Well that calmed your fears somewhat.

You passed door after door, some with yelling and screaming behind it, another with creepy singing, some patients just beat on the metal door with no regard, some were silent.

You saw two armed guards standing beside one of the doors just up ahead and you just knew that this was your stop, sure enough, the security man pulled out a card and ran it in front of a small box by the doorway, it let out a single, short, high pitched beep.

"You should get one of these soon" He told you as he opened the door and showed you his  key card, but you couldn't concentrate on anything else but the man that was revealed to be inside of the stark white room. He sat at one side of the table in a cheap folding chair by a wall. The more you looked, you could see that he was handcuffed to a metal bar, bolted to the white concrete wall. His head, with a mess of  toxic bright green hair, was tilted downwards, looking at the table and not you as you walked in. Hair was wild and stuck up in random places as if he had just rolled out of bed. 

Your eyes flickered to the guard standing directly behind him, a tall muscular man with a large gun held across his broad chest, ready if needed.

The metal door shut behind you and you admittedly jumped just a little at the unexpected sound.

You walked slowly over to the table, wondering when your new patient would look up at you. Even without him looking up you could see that his skin looked a pasty white shade and you thought maybe he hadn't been outside in a while, that being inside here had done this to him.

You had a seat in the chair across from him and cleared your throat and did your best to sound not nervous although your palms were covered in sweat.

"Hello I'm Doctor y/l/n" 

He didn't answer or say anything for a moment, you thought he might be asleep.

"I know" His voice was calm, yet he still didn't look at you. The sound of his voice was much more peaceful  than you expected, more soothing, velvety sweet like his vocal cords had been dipped in honey. You had expected a gruff deep voice that would invoke fear upon hearing a single word.

"What's your name?" You did your best to try to make conversation, you'd take what you could get at this point, you just had to get him talking, but you weren't sure that he would, judging by his demeanor and opposition to look at you.

"You know my name." His voice continued to stay calm, and he didn't seem upset at all, he just seemed to point out a fact.

"I do, but introductions are important. I would like to hear your name from you." You urged gently.

"Jeon Jungkook, patient 2354" he complied nicely with you, even giving you his patient number that you recall being beside his name in his file.

"Jungkook? Why don't you want to look at me?" You asked hoping that if he did then maybe he would feel more connected with you

"Skipping to the straightforward questions already?" his head bobbed a little as he let out a huff of amusement that wasn't sassy, but actually seemed like he was a little surprised by your basic request.

"You don't like that? Would you prefer to talk about other things?" you wanted to be careful just in case you had read him wrong, you wanted him to feel comfortable, you wanted him to know he could switch topics at any time.

"No, that's alright, I figured you'd ask, they all ask me to eventually." 

 You didn't know who he was referring to, they as in other therapists or staff or what. You were confused, but you decided to let him continue to speak other than asking more questions.

"My face... is... you haven't heard about my face?" He seemed so apprehensive to speak about it.

"No, I've only read your file, and it said nothing about your face." You informed him.

"It's pretty scary." 

"Well that's okay. I won't judge you. I don't mind at all." You did your best to reassure him. "But if looking down makes you comfortable I'm not going to-"

"You promise you won't scream if I show you?" He cut you off. It seemed like he wanted to show you.

"I swear." You were sure of your words.

You watched as he slowly lifted his mossy colored head up until his brown eyes met yours. He had a strikingly beautiful face, his eyes wide and brown almost deer-like, a strong jaw but gentle curves on his face that told you he was young. He had a few tattoos that you could see, a sad face with X’s for eyes on one of his cheek bones. The second was a few words near his collarbone that you couldn't quite read due to it being mostly obstructed by the collar of his white patient jumpsuit. To be honest, the tattoos suited him and his rather odd but soft features.

"I see nothing but your nice brown eyes." You were honest, his other nice features seemed to draw attention away from the not so nice one.

"Don't lie to me." He still didn't seem angry or upset or like it was a warning at all, just disbelieving of your comment.

You did however do your best not to look at the jagged scar of marred skin coming from the sides of his mouth to his mid cheeks. It looked like it had been cut so roughly, so carelessly, almost ripped. You did feel the very slightest urge to reach out and touch it, run your fingers along the long healed rugged scar, simply out of curiosity of what it felt like. Of course that would be inappropriate, and you knew better than to put your hand near the mouth of a man who almost bit someone’s finger off of course.

"I'm not going to scream, I'm not judging you, I'm not disgusted by you or anything you might think." You told the truth once again. "Do you want to talk about it?" 

"Sure, I don't mind." He gave a shrug and the chains that bound his wrists slightly jingled with the movement.

This was not at all how you expected the meeting to go. He seemed so quiet, calm and gentle. His current attitude was almost jarring compared to all the awful things you had read about him. You still weren't about to let your guard down thinking he might switch personalities at any moment to a more violent one, you were waiting for it just in case. In a way you wanted to see it, see what he might be like at his worst. You wanted him to match up with what you read in his file, but you were also very terrified of that.

"Do you want to tell me how it happened?" You asked and he gave a small nod.

"I-uh-I did it to myself." He was being so honest and open, yet his muttering and stuttering reflected his apprehension in talking about it, but you were still glad he was.

"Why? How?" You continued to prod, to see what he would and wouldn't answer and feel out his boundaries.

"I was tired of not smiling, so I took a knife and I cut my cheeks into a permanent smile." 

You had to will your eyebrows to not raise at his answer in slight shock or furrow with worry.

"You seem ashamed to show people, is that why your head was down and you didn't want to let me see?" 

He nodded.

"I don't enjoy looking like this anymore, especially not in front of someone seemingly so flawless. "I regret it." 

You were aware he had just insinuated you were flawless, he had complimented you, but you decided to say nothing about it and move on.

"What was going on in your mind at the time? Do you want to explain your thought process behind it?" 

"I-" he took a deep breath and once again looked down at the plastic grey table top. "I was younger, eighteen I think… eighteen is when it all happened. I was in an accident, hence my skin and hair, it- it really altered my mind. I was doing horrible things, and my mind… well it wasn't in the best state, I just kept falling further and further into a dark dark hole. My skin was ruined, my hair was ruined, my mind felt ruined, I was depressed. I thought no one would want someone like me- someone who looked this way. I was tired of being sad and in a bit of a psychotic rage, I cut the sides of my mouth into a permanent smile. Do you like it? If its not scary is it at least surprising to you?”

"Well,” you began with a playful tone, “I don't know if I can be surprised much anymore, especially by my line of work. Do you like surprises?"

"I do." He smiled a genuinely sweet smile and you could see his two front teeth were just a bit more prominent than the rest.

"What kind?" You wanted to keep him talking and any conversation going, and this seemed like a pleasant one, but to your dismay he gave a shrug. He almost seemed a little shy now, and that was once again very different from the violent man’s case file you had read.

"Well what else do you like?" 

"A lot of things. I like pretty things." He looked and you "and I like... I just miss the outside world."

"Did you find beauty in the outside world?” you genuinely wanted to know what he liked about being free.

“I do.I like the least expected things, those are the most beautiful, the chaos. Busy streets, hives of bees. There’s beauty in chaos I suppose, people don't like it but it’s underrated. So are imperfect things, imperfections are beautiful, unique, interesting.” 

His answer spoke volumes about him, it seemed to begin to tell you why he did the things he did, but you were sure it was only the tip of the iceberg of reasons why he was the way he was, and you now found yourself more than curious about the whys and hows of him and what made him tick. He seemed so soft spoken,calm, and so open but you knew there had to be another more violent and brutal side of him.

“Tell me about how you grew up.” you clasped your hands together on the table until you thought better of it. Somehow thinking that your arm freedom would be like rubbing it in his face that he was bound by chains and limited in mobility.

“Hmmm, I’m not sure what there is to tell, I grew up like any other kid in the suburbs of Gotham… at least I believe I did… I don't know things are blurry before the accident.”

“Accident?” you urged him to continue noticing he had mentioned this just a few moments ago but had not elaborated on it.

“The chemical accident.” you noticed him stare down at the table once more, his jaw seemed to clench. It seemed hard for him to talk about it, but talking about things was good, it was the only way to get breakthroughs. For a moment you didn't think he would go into it, you were about to change the subject and come back to the question at a later time in a more gentle way.

“I fell… into some chemicals… I was an employee, my first job. A janitor. It didn't pay much, I felt like I never had any money and it was hard with… I just couldn’t…” he stopped himself and struggled. 

“Take your time.” you said gently.

“It wasn't making ends meet. I started to steal things, burglarize homes. I never hurt anyone, I didn't want to, it was never my intent. I just had to find a way to make money for…” he let out a sigh “I just needed the money. I don't remember much from my childhood or teenage years, if I played a sport in school, who I was friends with, hell even my parent’s names. I do remember the struggle I went through right before the accident.”

“That's alright I-”

“Times up.” The big man from behind him boomed cutting off your sentence. You felt like he was really opening up to you though and it was only the first meeting.

“Five more m-” you wanted to barter with the man, but he cut you off once more with the same phrase. 

You scooted out your chair and stood in defeat.

You didn't even flinch when Jungkook also stood quickly and attempted to reach out a shackled hand for you to shake. 

Your hand went towards his but in a matter of seconds he had stumbled backwards onto the floor. You looked at the chain in the guards hand and assessed that he had pulled it, sending Jungkook to the floor.

You felt a tinge of guilt, especially when the man dragged him to his feet and back into his chair by the deep green hair. You just stood there gobsmacked with wide eyes at the abuse you had just witnessed. The man still had his large fingers in Jungkook’s shaggy hair.

“It was nice meeting you.” he said as he grunted in pain at how tightly the man held him by the hair. “I don't know when I’ll see you next… or the condition I’ll be in” he threw in making the man twist his fingers in his hair earning a series of ouches from Jungkook for the smart remark that might have hid a secret fear. “But I look forward to it.”

You were unsure of what you could do, it was obvious you held no power here.

“Yeah…” you scooted in your chair “I-me too.” 

All you could do was turn and walk out, hoping the guard would release his hair once you left.

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

The way he was treated bothered you, even long after you were home. You had showered, tried to eat but you couldn't shake how he had been treated. It wasn't your place to say how things were run there though, which is why you flopped onto your sofa and flipped through Netflix to try to forget or at least ease how upset you were with the movie.

That was until a pretty, velvet bag had caught your eye on the coffee table. It sat in the same place where you had haphazardly thrown it last night, untouched and forgotten.

Suddenly you were lunging out of your seat for it and dumping its contents into your lap.

You couldn't believe you had forgotten about it, that weird cat man could've given you anything, drugs, stolen jewelry, human teeth. What fell out onto your lap though wasn't any of that though.

"What the fuck?" You whispered in awe as you looked down at the thick stack of rubber banded together stack of cash that had fallen into your lap.

"What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?" You thought out loud. You had never seen so much money in one place at one time, you couldn't even pretend you knew how much it might be.

All you could do is stare until your phone buzzed from its spot on the couch cushion beside you. You directed your eyes away from the obscene amount of money you now possessed, and glanced at the name "jinnie" surrounded by hearts popping up on the screen making you sigh. You wanted to answer it, you wanted him to ask how your first day at work went, you wanted to continue to pretend last night didn't happen, pretend he felt the same way about you like you had before. But he lied to you, he led you on, he broke your heart, made you cry, you were never anything real to him and you refused to forget that now.

You let the phone ring as you stuffed the money back into it's nice bag and contemplated taking it to the police department. You thought hard about it, but if it was stolen from the party would you be arrested? You had been at that party, you were seen with the stranger, you could be seen as an accomplice. You picked up your now quieted phone and headed to your room where you tucked the money neatly into a shoe box under your bed before getting in.

In your mind Seokjin had once again ruined another night.

You drifted off thinking about Jungkook being tugged by the chains to the floor, unfortunately leading to dreams you're the one stuck in that white room, being hurt by the big guard with the gun. Feeling so trapped, dragged by the hair, knowing there would never be a way to leave and see the bees and hear the sounds of traffic out your apartment window ever again. You were thrown to the floor over and over and it seemed as though the sound of it grew louder and louder until you woke up and sat up in bed only to realize there was knocking at the door.

You reach for your phone on the bedside table in the darkness as you throw back your comforter with the other hand. The time reads thee in the morning as you head into your living room, but pause.

The knocking had stopped.

You were still curious and irritated at who would be knocking on your door this early in the morning, so you once again head towards it, unlock it, and throw it open to see absolutely nothing, no one, not even a stray cat.

You stepped out to look around a little and your bare foot stepped on something that was not the concrete of your front porch.

You picked up what looked to be an envelope and took it in, making sure to lock the door back up behind you, just to be safe, before flipping on a light.

The envelope was a bright green and had one of those very old fashioned smooth looking, red wax seals binding it closed, within the wax was the shape of a question mark.

You opened it to find a short but very neatly written note.

"People make me, save me, change me, raise me, what am I?

I believe the cat has given you something that doesn't belong to you, a terrible burden to put in your hands. So smart not showing him where you live, but I'm smarter. Peek-a-boo, I found you. Don't worry, I don't wish to hurt you, on the contrary, I simply wish to pardon you from your involvement in this. Leave it in your mailbox at midnight tomorrow night."

You thoroughly read the note a few times before your sleepy brain figured it out. 

"The money." You whispered to yourself. The note felt a little foreboding despite the promise not to hurt you. Nervousness began to wash over you as you just stared at the note now with eyelids heavy from not enough sleep. This money was definitely someone else's and that someone else knew where you lived.

"Thanks cat boy." You sarcastically muttered to yourself as your feet dragged your exhausted body back to bed. 

No matter how tired you felt, you were unable to sleep. The nightmare combined with the note and all the thoughts you had before bed had left you in a permanent state of unease despite having to get ready for work in just a few hours.

With very little sleep, all of the strange things happening and your broken heart, tomorrow was bound to be a bad day as well.

"Mind over matter" you said out loud "it's only going to be as bad as I let it be."

[cleololax]

Bubbles | A

Ghost!Jimin x MourningFiance!Reader 

AN: My first story post and it’s really really angsty so buckle up, buttercups (and don’t be stingy with the tissues T-T). Inspired by the RUN era because it was my first debut with them and it’s still my favorite.  

Warnings: Death of a loved one, mourning, intense grief and pain 

                              _______________________________

      You normally hate taking baths, preferring to get that tedious part of your routine over with. So you really don’t know what compels you today out of all of them, or so you tell yourself. The bathroom is small and quaint, quiet besides the sound of your jeans and the front button hitting the ground. The cold floor is covered in checkered tiles and light lavender walls. It was decorated long ago to fit your taste when you moved in, still single and excited to get your first place. It is fairly girly yet he had oddly loved it in here. The white tub is situated in the middle of the room, giving it that Parisian chateau feeling. You turn the gold faucet, unleashing the warm rushing water to fill the tub up to the brim. The bath soap is on top of the sink counter, ready to slide down any minute before you quickly grab it. The pink gel is squeezed into the water in a little stream that you are entranced by. Little wisps form before they disappear, leaving white froth in their midst. You slowly drop your undergarments and hastily twist your hair into a messy bun. You test it in the mirror, bobbing your head around in front of the small mirror to make sure that it stays. Your reflection looks back at you, but a much different one than you remember. It turns out that the lack of sleep has gotten to you, shading the space under your eyes a darker purple than before. Getting away with two hours of sleep every night consecutively can never work out and deep down you know that. Still, it angers you that you are,  once again, no exception to a rule. Not wanting to see the sight anymore, you turn around and make your way to the tub. The water is warm and you go down slowly, not wanting to let the water escape. Your body soon gets enveloped and your nerves relax as the warm water does it’s magic. The towel behind you offers your head comfort as you lean back from your sitting position. Nancy, the therapist that has been seeing you since you moved to the city,  had been right when she had proposed the idea of you doing this a couple times a week as a form of meditation. You mentally remind yourself to thank her later on. The plethora of bubbles surround you, creating a sea of iridescence so pretty it makes you want to cry and you would, if your eyes weren’t already swollen and dry. The little light above you makes them brilliantly shine and for a moment, you are lost to the sight. Nothing else matters outside of your little world. This sparks pleasant memories in your head. There is that time the two of you had a water fight, sloshing water back and forth, getting your clothes soaking wet.You had laughed all night and even after as you put the clothes in the noisy dryer. It isn’t enough, never enough. These memories won’t bring him back to you, no matter how hard you wish. They won’t provide you warmth on those rainy nights when he isn’t there, but there is a hope that they’ll keep the darker thoughts away. The scent fills the room with the sweet tinge of honey and roses, a great contrast to the bitterness that is settling in your heart when you think of how unfair life is. No, you never are the exception.  He was going to be a dancer on the Broadway stage and you’ll never get to watch his gracefulness, a determined look on his face as he lets the music take over. He’ll think he has forever to climb his way to the top, but it’ll be ripped from him. Your eyes momentarily close, trying to shut out all of the thoughts racing in your head. The ones that keep you from joining the living around you.You have to be calm because that is the whole point, after all. To relax and to find a new way of coping besides the self destructive path you have been treading on.  When you feel yourself getting lighter, a voice cuts in. A faint one at first, but slowly growing. Like when you’re asleep and it is all muffled. It is a voice you recognize, one that had said silky ‘I love yous’ not so long ago. The blood in your veins seems to catch on because it grows cold, all too quickly. It couldn’t be. Your mind has to be imagining it. It isn’t real, can’t be. And you wonder how your senses can play their mean tricks on you, taunt you in a way similar to a knife twisting through the heart. You are slowly losing your sanity and it’s not the way you want to go. Your eyes are still shut, hoping that you can take yourself out of here, imagine yourself elsewhere. It isn’t until you feel the water by your feet move that you gain the guts to open your eyes wide. It’s your name said aloud this time, and you figure out that it’s coming from the door. Not from somewhere, but from someone. The person you thought you’d never see again is suddenly leaning on the door, his arms crossed before him. You hesitantly look into his face, no longer met with the pale shade it had been the last time you saw him. His lips are no longer blue, but the plush pink you have always been jealous of. He has an amused grin on his face, his eyes trying to read your expression. He was always frustratingly good at it, making it impossible for you to hide the feelings you hadn’t wanted him to see. Your eyes are probably still the size of saucers and your jaw still open wide. Breathe you tell yourself, just breathe. He isn’t real. Why did he look so real, then? “It’s nice to see you too, love” he slowly speaks out. Those words seem to snap you out of your trance and confusion. Your heart still beats the same rhythm, maybe recognizing the person it still belongs to. And all of a sudden, the anger bubbles up from somewhere. He comes towards you. 

“Ah-ah, I have only a little bit of time. Let’s make it count.” You are still shocked, fingers digging into the palms of your hand. He comes to sit on the edge of the tub. 

“After all those times of begging you to come take a bath with me, you finally do it after I’m gone. I’m hurt, Y/N.” 

     He jokes and it makes you remember all those times he had pouted and whined for you to join him, but you never wanted to. You should have because you wouldn’t have regretted it like you do now. His fingers glide through the warm water, occasionally popping some bubbles. Then, you feel the warm anger that creeps up your neck. How could he be joking right now, of all times?

    Three months of loneliness and emptiness make your mouth feel dry and it’s hard to speak. He always tried to lighten the mood  and it drove you wild, especially now.  

“Really? You’re here and it’s the first thing you do is... laugh? You fucking bastard.“ Everything is a blur and you don’t know how you’re there on the rim of the tumb, hands pounding on his chest, water soshing around you.

“I haven’t washed your stuff, I keep your keys on the counter the way you left them. Everything is as you left it!” Even me. The words tumble out, even if they’ve swirled around in your mind, ontoletters that your therapist advised you to write. Warm hands catch a hold of your wrists.

“Y?N I-” Regret is laced in his tone and the red tinges on your vision disappear as soon as they appeared. 

“No, no don’t say anything.” your body deflates. You lean your forehead on his thighs. The energy you stored is gone, all gone. After some time, you regain your senses.

“How are you here, right now? Are you really here, or have those pills finally screwed with my mind?” You try to not let your voice crack, and instead let a sad smile take its place. You’d rather a sad one than none at all.  He looks at you then, his earlier humor gone. 

“You were thinking of me again weren’t you? I couldn’t be here if you weren’t. I’m so sorry, love.” 

     He reaches out to touch your hand, lovingly, like he has so many times before. You have to imagine that the warmth is still there. You look up at him. A beautiful sight he was, is, to behold. Even in death he has remained beautiful. A pure angel with the sparkle in his deep chocolate brown eyes and his orange hair, glistening under the artificial lighting. It looks exactly like the first night he had come home with it, surprising you. You want to remember it, him like this, for the rest of your life. You suddenly forget how to breathe. You got that very word tattooed one night on your bicep with him by your side, and you still can’t even remember to do it. He notices the way you look at him suddenly.

 “I miss you, Jiminie.” 

 “And me you. Always and always.” 

As if reading the swelling of emotions in your eyes, he silently adds, “It’ll get easier, I promise. “ He reassures you with a smile. “Should I join you?” he asks. 

You follow his hand to where it meets the hem of his white shirt. You frantically reach out to stop him. You don’t want him to take it off if it means that those markings will be visible, taunting you. Reminding you that they could have been prevented if only you hadn’t been too late.

 “It wasn’t your fault. I was the stupid one. I should have listened to you and just stayed home.” 

All of a sudden he gets into the tub, across from you. You need to be there, close to him, so you cross the space and bubbles and time and  he opens up his arms wide.  

“I should have been there, when you were calling out my name.” The tears slowly trickle down, dropping. The saltiness is hard to swallow. You snuggle closer. 

“The doctor told you, I’m guessing. All that matters is that you’re here now.” 

Jimin kisses the top of your head, missing the strawberry scented shampoo. 

“Marnie still sniffs by the door, ya know. Always around the time you used to take her for her walks”, you say quietly. You toil with his silver necklace, tracing his collarbones and beauty mark as you hear his steady  breathing. 

“My two favorite girls. But I need you to stop taking the pills, Y/N. They’re ruining you. I don’t want you to join me sooner than you have to. I’ll wait.” 

“They help me, though. With everything. The numbing helps me get through the day, Minnie.”

“Well, stop. Find the passion you had for living again, Y/N. Get one of those canvases and start painting again in the morning, go out and plant something weird. I know you can do it, baby. Nothing could ever stop me from seeing you, but I won’t do it if it makes everything worse. Promise me.” 

“I promise,” you faintly sigh. 

     You can’t imagine him not visiting you anymore. You haven’t realized it until today when the hunger to have him here hung over you. Time lapses together in that small room. You’re listening to his heartbeat or you imagine that you do. He hums by your ear. Your need to close your eyes has never been more strong in that moment. Just one little action could keep him in your embrace forever. Of course, he probably wouldn’t let you keep your head under for too long. “I have to go.”Take me with you.Those whispered words bring back reality. Jimin kisses the top of your head and gently tugs your arms off of him so he can get up. You’re on your knees, the bottom of the tub feeling rougher on your soggy skin. He sees the frown on your face and sits on the rim again. 

“I’ll come back. This isn’t the last time. I’ll do anything to make sure I see your beautiful face again.”

“You promise?” 

“I promise.” 

     The hand that’s in the tub picks up a handful of pink bubbles and he blows it your way with a kiss. He winks and it seems like the charm hasn’t left him either. He murmurs the words “I love you” that make your shoulders visibly relax. You have wanted to hear those words.  You’ve imagined them on your way to work, to the store, in your sleep. However nothing could beat the real thing. In the blink of an eye, the magic that the room held is gone with him. The pink bubbles don’t quite hold their shine or their scent, each one eventually popping. With a fluffy towel wrapped around you, you decide that it’s time to go to bed. Before you turn the knob, a little message appears on the fogged up mirror. This time and for the first time in a long time, a genuine smile graces your lips. In his neat handwriting, the words “my butterfly” linger, until the steam disappears and the water droplets travel down, making the text unrecognizable.

[foreficfandom]

Mystic Messenger - Domestic Disputes And Bad Habits (mysme x MC)

--- Zen ---

He hadn’t lived with anyone for years. After running away from home, he struggled with housing, sometimes couch surfing and sometimes he had legitimate leases. And when he lived with others, he was usually the ‘messy roommate’ because leaving home at a young age meant little opportunity to learn how to manage a living space. 

Even now, his apartment is relatively clean largely by virtue of him not owning a lot of stuff. He doesn’t cook so no dishes to clean, he doesn’t own loose knick knacks to spread around. 

When he housed you for a couple days prior to the first RFA party, he had quickly cleaned his apartment of empty beer cans and loose socks, which made it look like he was a man who kept a clean house. But unfortunately, that wasn’t the case, and by the next afternoon you noticed random articles tossed over chairs and upon the floor.

That was fine when it was only his space, but when the two of you began living together, Zen quickly had to learn that it wasn’t acceptable to shed his clothing upon the floor all the time, especially when the laundry basket was right there. No, Zen, get your loose socks out of the couch cushions. Zen, stop piling up empty cigarette boxes on the nightstand. Zen, once you’ve unwrapped the sheet mask from its plastic envelope would it kill you to throw it away, instead of leaving it on the bathroom counter?

He’s consistent when it comes to chores like doing the laundry and taking out the trash. But asking him to hang up his jacket instead of letting it crumple in the corner? It’s like getting blood from a stone. 

After a while, you finally get him to pick up after himself. “It’s our home, now,” you said. “Not just yours.” A promise that said he wasn’t alone, anymore. And he took it to heart.  

--- Yoosung ---

It may seem like his depression-ruled lifestyle seemed to change overnight, but that wasn’t the case. Sure, he did regain a lot of his motivation and energy, but simply getting a new lease on life won’t overrule years of neglecting yourself.

You’d text him in preparation for a date, only to arrive and find out he hasn’t even left his bed since he replied with an ‘I’ll get ready!’ More than once your dates had to be rescheduled because Yoosung had been stuck in bed, or still in his pajamas on his desktop. 

On the third time you voiced your complaints, Yoosung got a bit defensive. He couldn’t help it, it’s hard for him to maintain a tidy schedule after so long lacking the proper will. 

It was a terse discussion. Your first couple fight, if you will. “Yoosung, are you sure you’re okay? You don’t want to seek professional help?” “No, MC, I’m fine. What could a counselor possibly help me with?”

It was Yoosung’s own initiative to finally google some nearby therapists during a particularly slow morning. He didn’t tell you he’d been seeing someone until four sessions in, since he struggles with the idea that he might need help. You hug him tightly and treat the both of you to tasty pastries at a cute bakery. 

Yoosung took his therapy to heart. He started slow, working on self-affirming mindfulness and motivating himself to tidy his living space. Then he worked on his time management, which helped his schooling and energy both. 

Within the year, both you and Yoosung saw progress. He felt better, which made his life better. More time to live. More time to spend with you.

--- Jaehee ---

Domestic arguments didn’t arise until you moved in with her. Before that point, Jaehee and you meshed so gracefully, it was damn near magical. 

Even moving into her place and having to carry around heavy couches and unpack a million boxes didn’t dampen that honeymoon phase. You loved witnessing Jaehee’s hidden strength as she tugged your mattress down seven flights of stairs. 

But within a week of living with her, you noticed that you and her ... clashed when it came to interior living. You kept using up the hot water before Jaehee could take a shower. She would misplace your possessions thoughtlessly. The both of you thought each other as messier. 

It was like a new roommate situation. At first, the two of you tried to calmly talk these things out. But new issues would arise after the old ones were resolved. She didn’t like how you tossed your coat across the desk chair, or left the living room lamps on during the night. 

“It’s my apartment, MC!” “Oh, I’m sorry, I thought being your co-owner at the cafe we co-manage meant my co-money go into our co-rent!”

Jaehee went to work in a huff, leaving you to your own devices. Alone in the apartment, you decided to do some regular chores, and as you rested for a minute you absorbed the living space - you could see Jaehee’s touch in ever corner, thoughtfully and carefully labored over. It really almost seemed like your mindless efforts were invading her space.

When Jaehee returned that evening, the two of you tried to apologize at the same time. “Oh, sorry, you go -” “No, you, sorry for interrupting -”

“It’s just ... MC, I want to apologize for treating you like a naughty guest. You’re my partner now and deserve more say in our home.”

You made up and eventually the apartment evolved into a true home between the two of you. A perfect representation of your love.

--- Jumin ---

The dude can be shockingly conservative. In the beginning, it only manifested in him being somewhat of a prude. “I wish you wouldn’t wear that particular dress to the social. You look more beautiful when you show less skin.” “... you mean you’d personally prefer I didn’t show much skin, right?” “Yes? What was wrong with my previous sentence?”

But sometimes he’d be watching the news and blurt out, “I’m not sure if marriage between two men should be recognized by law.” Which leads to you trying to convince him that he’s being very unethical. 

He usually ends up saying something like, “I’m sorry, love, I’m rather uneducated when it comes to this issue,” and leave it at that. Because he’s not some right-wing jackass or anything, he just grew up in an isolated Christian family and never really got to socialize beyond that. So he never learned about viewpoints that challenged what he heard growing up.

It can be infuriating, though, especially with issues you’re concerned about. Because Jumin just kinda tries to compromise by taking a non-stance, since he just doesn’t have a strong opinion on things like reproductive rights or colonialism. It’s partially due to his sheltered background, and partially due to being raised to literally be conservative in his life dealings.

But after seeing you becoming more and more frustrated, he digs a little deeper and realizes that he’s kinda being an ass.  Eventually he begins to say things like, “I think you’re right, MC. Demonizing drug abusers is antithesis to their recovery. They deserve sympathy instead.”

But a pleasant surprise is his appreciation for climate conservation. He likes to donate and fund green power initiatives because he believes in preserving the environment and preventing nature exploitation. You join his efforts, and he finally understands how important it is to have solidarity from your significant other.

--- Saeyoung/707 ---

Being merely twenty-three years old (not to mention his neglected upbringing) leads to some rocky relationship problems. His self-doubt and anxiety can go wild during his worse days, making him revert back to his colder personality and try to push you away once more.

It doesn’t manifest as just him ignoring you. His mind can make him do some really round-about sabotaging. One day, you open the kitchen cabinets to see it all the objects thrown within haphazardly. You confronted Saeyoung and it took hours before he coldly confessed that he was considering throwing away all your favorite foods, before realizing how fucked up that would be and quickly replacing it all again. 

He knew it was his mother’s influence talking. And the thought made him sick. 

Sometimes, you responded to his darker days with loving patience and lots of hugs while he allows himself to break down. Sometimes, you choose to distance yourself a bit. Either way, Saeyoung’s mood eventually evens out. The two of you talk at length about why he feels the way he does, and why he’s propelled to do these things. As time goes on, his dark moods pop up less and less.

On a lighter note, Saeyoung can be a pretty messy dude. Partly because of his underlying mental issues, partly because that’s the type of guy he is. He doesn’t shower as much as you like him to, and he tosses trash just ... everywhere. If his bunker wasn’t so big, the clutter he alone produces would bury you both. No wonder he needed a ‘maid’. 

Yeah, it takes more than a few pushes to make him stop being a slob. He eventually owns up, but not without some effort. Everyone living in the house is grateful. 

--- Saeran ---

It took many months before Saeran felt stable enough to start integrating into normal society, and even longer before his daily schedule began to stabilize beyond surprise breakdowns, spreads of bad days spent holed up, or horrible dips in moods.

Saeran would always live with dissociative identity disorder, and during the first few years it could get tough. Both ‘Suit’ and Ray would be triggered seemingly without warning, and sometimes last for days. Ray did anything he could to earn your affection, ‘Suit’ defected his fears by trying to provoke you. 

Therapy and medication was an ongoing process. You and Saeran went through more than a couple of therapists before finding the ‘one’. Medications had to be tried then dropped because of side effects, or lack of effectiveness. There were long periods of months in-between where all he could do was hope this new treatment would be more effective than the last.

‘Suit’ once got particularly violent with you, not hitting but shaking you by the shoulders and screaming in your face, “Just say it!! You hate me ... you want to hurt me!!”

You found 'Suit’ later, crying and curled up in a corner. After long coaxing, he confessed that he was so afraid you were eventually going to hurt him, so he was pushing you to see if you’d do it. 

And Ray’d do things like blow away all his saved up money to buy you gifts in a desperate show of affection. Just because the two of you were living in a safe, stable environment doesn’t mean old haunts wouldn’t pop up.

Saeran eventually got better and better. Looking back now, Saeran is so much happier. He never lets you forget your amazing influence on him. “Thank you for saving me, my love.” 

--- Jihyun ---

He’s the perfect example of a loving boyfriend. After his two years spent in a therapeutic journey of self-discovery, he returned ready to be a reliable partner. And for the most part, he lived up to it, barring some moments where he accidentally gets sucked into bad memories.

Insomnia is the most common problem. Settling down to sleep means his mind gets easily swamped, and when he does manage to sleep he wakes up during the night and gets overwhelmed with memories once again. Some nights are worse than others.

He tries not to get up from the bed to avoid waking you too, but you eventually develop a second sense for his insomnia spells and you can feel it when he’s struggling. Then he feels bad that he’s affecting you this way.

See, that’s his problem that he can’t resolve on his own. He thinks of his problems as obstacles that bother others, and not the obstacles themselves. This prevents him from finding ways to truly resolve them. 

“I’m sorry, MC. Go back to sleep.” “... Jihyun, how many nights has it been since you’ve slept properly?” He measures it by the nights you’ve been kept awake too, and you stop him there.

“Don’t you see? It’s not about me. Think about your own health.”

And that’s not easy for him. He had obsessed over being a figure that offers unconditional love for so long, it’s hard to shed it. He thinks of his mother and his eyes grow wet. 

He and you find a relationship therapist, and it helps a lot. Jihyun’s two years of self-discovery did wonders for his mood, but it took a bit of professional aid to really unravel the really complicated stuff. 

He feels his state of thinking shift gradually, and it makes his life less cloudy, less stuck in those bad memories and regrets. Instead, he goes to sleep every night thinking about how much he loves you and his family. His heart falls asleep feeling light instead of heavy. 

[athingthatwantsvirginia]

What about Byron?

PART THIRTY-EIGHT OF THE DO YOU SEE HER FACE? SERIES

Pairing: Jess Mariano x Original Character (Ella Stevens)

Warnings: mentions of surgery/appendicitis, mentions of family trauma, plentiful pop culture references, this is just fluff I know guys but I needed something to restore my faith in humanity even just momentarily

Word Count: 5.5K

Summary: The first Thanksgiving in Ella and Jess’s new apartment doesn’t go exactly according to plan.

Humming a She Wants Revenge song under her breath, Ella leaned back against the cabinets and dried the fragile dishes. She was reminded of their days at the diner as Jess stood over the kitchen sink washing them. From her spot sitting on the counter right next to him, she could admire his profile and feel her cheeks heat up at the sight. He had grown into himself so well. But his beauty and her comfort at his presence were probably the only things keeping her nerves at bay. The dishes, her mother’s, had come in the mail from Fiona only two days earlier. White faux China adorned with pinkish-red roses. Ella had taken a few moments to recognize them, since there had been no note along with them. But then she remembered family holidays when her mother would take them out, only used for the most special occasions. Even though they were chipped in some places and had been bought at a rummage sale just after her parents had gotten married.

The dishes were where the plans for the holiday truly started to form. Chris, Leo, Matthew, and Mabel all had other engagements which took them out of town for Thanksgiving. Ella and Jess were still unsure of what they were doing. Adam was going to Noah’s, Fiona was going to her sister’s. Still, no word from Jake. Jess was wary of staying in Stars Hollow, though his time at the community center therapist’s office had been doing him well. They bounced him around to a different counselor each time he went, and talking to a complete stranger about all his issues hadn’t come easy, still wasn’t coming easy. But maybe just the fact that he was trying made him feel better.

On a whim, at the sight of the dishes, Ella had a wild idea. Instead of going to Stars Hollow, why not bring Stars Hollow to Philadelphia? The dishes were meant to be used. She couldn’t neglect them like an instrument unplayed. Not her mother’s dishes. And when she’d run it by Jess, he’d been more receptive than she’d thought he would be. Maybe he was just surprised she was open to contacting anyone from her family at all. She still seemed so standoffish about them, since the graduation ceremony. And the apartment wasn’t big, but certainly they could handle a few people over for one afternoon. Julie, Michael, and their girls would be in attendance. Along with Luke and Lorelai. But, when Liz and TJ heard Luke and Lorelai were coming, they somehow managed to invite themselves.

Jess wasn’t thrilled about it, and neither was Ella, but they were trying to keep level heads. Plan everything in advance and keep the day-of to a low-stress affair. It was only Monday, and they were already washing the dishes. It made Ella feel slightly more secure. And she had the whole week off, leaving plenty more time to prepare. Luke and Lorelai were also coming on Wednesday and staying the night at a motel, though Ella and Jess insisted they didn’t need to help. Ella was shocked Luke was willing to be away from the diner for more than one day, let alone Thanksgiving. Maybe getting back with Lorelai after Rory’s graduation had changed his outlook on life a bit.

She uttered a small sigh as she dried yet another dish, stressing herself out with the storm of thoughts raging in her head. A throb was starting behind her eyes.

“What’s up?” Jess asked, handing her another plate, his hands reddish and dripping from the hot water.

Ella shook her head slightly. “Nothing. Doesn’t it just seem a little bourgeois of us to have a set of dishes?”

“I don’t know. I think we’re exempt, considering you got these from your mom, who got them from someone else,” Jess pointed out, his voice light. “Sharing is caring for the proletariat.”

Snickering, she let a small smile cross her lips. “Well, it’ll have to be, considering we’re trying to fit eleven people in a shoebox.”

“It won’t be that bad,” Jess continued, trying to sound reassuring. She had been quiet and fidgety all evening, and he wondered just how wound up about the event she really was. Ella had a tendency to spread herself too thin and regret it when it was already too late.

“Look at you, Mr. Sunshine,” she quipped as she dried the last plate.

Jess shut off the water and watched the soapy foam begin to circle down the drain. He wiped his hands on his jeans, eyeing the tall stack of dishes which sat on Ella’s other side. She was right. Even a chipped set of plates didn’t look quite correct in their faded, out of date kitchen. But he only shrugged off the nerves. They were in for it, and there was nothing they could do about it. He came to stand in between Ella’s legs. She brought her arms to rest on his shoulders as he shifted closer.

“I’m working on my positive outlook.”

She snorted a laugh. “Good luck.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “Well, that wasn’t very convincing.”

“I just don’t know if I’d be able to handle you waking up to a motivational tape every morning,” she said, shrugging.

Jess smirked. “That’s cute. But it’s not 1985 anymore. It would be a motivational CD, at least.”

“Maybe you could start with reading that self-help book again?” she suggested, teasing. “Maybe Luke could bring it up for you on Wednesday?”

“Touché,” he replied.

“Hey,” she began, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, “I kinda like that you read that book.”

He scoffed. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” she said, searching his face for a moment. “Just seems exactly like something you would do...in a good way. Are you sure you’re okay with seeing your mom and everything?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. I promise,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Okay. But just tell me if you’re not okay. I can kick them out without a second thought,” she said with mock gravity. “There’s a reason I was Luke’s favorite waitress.”

Jess chuckled. “Good to know.”

Then, she took a deep, tired breath. Tilting his head at her, he noticed the constant tinge of pink on her cheeks, and the way she seemed to sit as though the weight of the world was on her limbs.

“You okay, Stevens?” he asked.

“Other than the sense of impending doom...yeah, I’d say I’m doing alright,” she said.

Furrowing his brows, he brought the back of one hand to her cheek.

She groaned in annoyance at his needless concern. “You can’t get all Mother Hen on me now, Mariano. We’ve got pies to bake and a turkey to roast.”

“Elle, if-”

“I’m fine, Jess,” she continued, swatting his hand away when he attempted to move it to her forehead. “It’s just PMS. I have cramps, too. Don’t worry about it.”

After a moment, he finally managed an unconvinced: “Okay.”

.   .   .

Wednesday afternoon brought flurries of snow in stray showers throughout the day. A crisp, biting wind blew through the Philadelphia air, but it still felt a bit warmer than Connecticut to Lorelai. She could already smell the fragrance of pie as they approached the door of Jess and Ella’s apartment. It was odd, to say the least, standing in the dingy, grayish hallway of the building in front of the door, adorned with a rusty ‘7.’ A flash of memory crossed her mind, sitting in the living room of her home, braiding Ella’s hair. She’d warned Ella back then not to get involved with Jess, told her he was trouble. Sometimes, when she heard through the Lane grapevine about fights the two had, Lorelai wondered if she should have done more to protect Ella. She remembered nights comforting her on the couch after her mother died, feeling helpless and unable to get Ella to work through her emotions. Often, Ella would just sit there staring at the television screen, with the same glazed expression no matter what they were watching. Even after Rory fell asleep, Lorelai would stay up with her. Just to be there.

She knew what it was to be alone at such a young age. And she knew what it was to fall for a boy who didn’t deserve you just to escape the isolation. Sometimes, Ella reminded her more of herself than even Rory. But Rory had been on her mind every waking second in those days. And she had, somehow, let Ella slip through the cracks. Go on a rocky path with Jess. Not that it hadn’t turned out alright in the end. Even Luke approved, despite how against it all he had been at first. But Lorelai was still unsure of Jess, even after so many years. She was civil when they crossed paths, but actually spending a day inside the home Ella shared with him was a different matter entirely. All she’d ever seen of him were the angriest, nastiest moments. She didn’t like the idea of Ella having to weather such a storm for the rest of her life, simply because she and Jess had been together for so long.

“You gonna knock, or what?” Luke asked, his wide, expectant eyes flicking between the door and Lorelai. His hands were full of the sides he’d made the day before. One tupperware with garlic mashed potatoes, the other with glazed carrots; he knew how much Ella liked them. She’d always taken the leftovers from the diner when they were offered.

Lorelai nodded. “Yes. Just preparing myself to right walk into a John Hughes movie.”

“I told you, Lorelai,” Luke said gruffly, rolling his eyes. “He’s changed. They both have.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Well, you’re getting the chance to. Just please knock on the damn door before my arms give out,” Luke said.

Lorelai scoffed, then raised a gloved hand and knocked. She was surprised how quickly Jess came to greet them, a thin smile on his face as he took their coats and the tupperwares from Luke. He seemed rushed, and there was a pink, checkered apron tied around his hips. It stood out against his otherwise all-black t-shirt and jeans ensemble. She was surprised to see a respectable haircut on his head.

“Hey. Make yourself at home. I gotta make sure the sugar doesn’t burn,” he said, then hurried back into the kitchen as they took off their shoes.

“Thanks,” Lorelai muttered, looking around the place.

It was surprisingly cozy, homey, considering the run-down state of the building. There were a few throw blankets draped over the back of the couch, and cacti planted in small pots on one of the end tables near the sliding glass door. Through it, she could see two mismatched armchairs next to each other on the tiny balcony. Art lined the walls. A few posters, famous photography, paintings and drawings Lorelai could recognize as Ella’s from their mixture of horror and botanicals. Stepping into the living room as Luke immediately offered to help Jess, she spotted a couple pictures in small frames, sitting on the end table sans cacti.

In one, Ella sat on Jess’s lap inside what looked to be a dive bar. Ella’s left arm was hooked around the back of Jess’s neck, and she used her free hand to gesture. Her lips were curling up at the edges as she spoke some word frozen in time. Jess had his head thrown back in laughter at whatever Ella had said. The sight made Lorelai’s eyebrows raise just a touch. She didn’t think she had ever heard Jess truly laugh at anything. The next picture saw Ella and Jess together in a train seat, the scenery passing them by through a small window. They were both asleep, Ella’s head on Jess’s shoulder, and Jess’s head on top of Ella’s. In another, just Ella was in the shot. She was glancing at the camera, not quite smiling but looking serene as she sat on a beach towel, the waves captured in mid-crash behind her. Still, Lorelai’s surprise grew. Ella hated the ocean.

“Nice apron, by the way,” Luke said, smirking at Jess as he rounded the corner to take a seat at the island.

Jess gave a sardonic grin in response, looking down at himself and blushing. “Thanks. Eleanor said it wouldn’t really feel like a pie day without it.”

“Oh, God, the pie days,” Lorelai piped up, groaning fondly at the memory. She came over to take the stool next to Luke. She had to admit, watching Jess stir a pot on the stove in a pink apron like a portrait of Donna Reed made a giggle rise in her throat. “I don’t miss those.”

“You weren’t the one she was waking up before the sunrise to get inside and use your oven because hers didn’t have convection!” Luke argued.

Lorelai snorted. “No, but I was the one who had to hear you rant about it before you gave me my morning coffee.”

“Need I remind you all that we always sold every slice?” Ella chimed in, emerging from the bedroom.

Lorelai smiled as she swiveled around on the stool. Ella wasn’t wearing any makeup and she was dressed in a large flannel and leggings. Her hair was messy and down. Maybe her style had changed since the grunge-goth diner phase.

“Hey! I told you to stay in bed!” Jess said, raising his eyebrows and pointing a wooden spoon at Ella from the kitchen.

Ella rolled her eyes, going over and giving Lorelai and Luke hugs of greeting. “Why would I stay in bed when there’s so much excitement out here?”

She waltzed into the kitchen next to Jess, eyes roaming over the mess of flour and spices and bowls and pie tins he had laid out next to the stove. She could tell by the smell of the apartment the apple was currently in the oven. It looked like he was working on the pecan next.

“Maybe because you just got your appendix taken out, like, twelve hours ago?” Jess said emphatically, eyes widening at her.

“What?” Luke asked.

“Is that why Jess is doing his Leave it to Beaver routine? I thought he was filling in because you were getting ready,” Lorelai said, a startled lilt in her tone. “But instead you just got your organs rearranged?”

“I had a minor surgery and I’m fine now,” Ella said, casual and content. The medicine they’d given her at the hospital hadn’t quite worn off yet, but she had been high around parental figures more than once. She could hold her own. She could even ignore the troubling notions about gender roles deeply ingrained in Lorelai’s comment, in the spirit of keeping arguments to a minimum. She glanced at the mixture Jess was beginning in the big blue bowl. “Just make sure to-”

“I’m following the recipes you gave me,” Jess cut in defensively. “If you’re not gonna stay in bed like you should, can you at least sit down and not backseat bake?”

Lorelai gave the two a suspicious glance. There was the bite in Jess’s voice. The one she could remember so well.

Ella gave a heavy sigh through her nose. Of all the weeks to get appendicitis. Pie-making was probably her favorite part of the winter months. “Fine. But I’m playing my Joni Mitchell record and you can’t complain about it.”

“You’re sick. You’re allowed to play whatever you want. You’re just not allowed to rip your stitches open,” Jess said, shrugging and gaining a teasing tone again. The smirk returned.

“I’m not sick, jackass,” she snapped.

Lorelai pursed her lips, looking over at Luke with eyes full of nostalgia. “Is it just me or have we been transported back to 2002?”

“Seems like it,” Luke mumbled, watching them bicker like they always had.

Before Ella could turn on her heel to leave the kitchen, heading for the record player in the corner of the living room, Jess put down his spoon and stopped her with a: “Hold on.”

“What?” she asked.

He took a couple steps towards her, wiping his hands on the apron before placing his palm on her forehead, feeling how warm it was. Then, he transferred the backs of his fingers to her rosy cheek. “Do you need more Ibuprofen?”

“Not for a couple hours,” she replied, more honest than he was expecting. Banter aside, he could see the fatigue in her glassy eyes. “It’s fine. The doctor said I could have a fever for up to forty-eight hours after surgery.”

“I know. Just checking,” he said, then dropped his hand as she made her way out.

Again, Lorelai’s confusion deepened. She couldn’t hide the crease on her forehead as she furrowed her brows at the interaction. Was Jess really playing nurse? Without complaint?

“I can’t believe you got her to a doctor at all,” Luke said.

Jess scoffed, looking down at the mixture as he stirred. “Only after she passed out on the bathroom floor because her fever was so high.”

“What?!” Luke repeated, instantly panicked.

“Tell them every detail of our lives, why don’t you, chatty Kathy?” Ella grumbled as she put the record on. “I’m fine now.”

A wave of relaxation washed over her as Joni Mitchell’s voice sounded. She went to the couch and threw an old blanket over herself, facing the kitchen.

“My God, Ella. It’s just like that time you broke your arm,” Lorelai said knowingly, going over to join Ella on the couch. She put a comforting hand on Ella’s knee. “Seriously, sweetie, you can’t just expect an organ to abracadabra out of your body.”

“Damn, if only Jess was still doing those magic tricks,” Ella teased in retaliation, narrowing her eyes at Jess as he glared at her through the opening to the kitchen.

Soon, he and Luke were enveloped in their own sporadic, monosyllabic conversation and it made Ella crack a small smile of nostalgia. She raked her hands through her hair as Lorelai began to ask about the apartment, how school was going. It was strange having such a long conversation with her. They hadn’t engaged in their old, pseudo mother-daughter dynamic in a long time. Part of Ella felt as though she were back to being fifteen again. But another part of her felt so elementally different. Able to recognize how much Lorelai had helped her in a way she simply hadn’t been able to comprehend as a teenager. Sure, she was beyond grateful even when she was young. But, now, she wondered if and where she would be if Lorelai hadn’t been there to help her following her mother’s death, or even in her life before. She probably wouldn’t have gotten a job at Luke’s, considering Lorelai was the one who had initially asked Luke to help the Stevens out and give them leftovers every once in a while. Who knew if Ella and Jess would have ever gotten together. The ‘what-ifs’ spinning around in her head only served to fill her heart with warmth for Lorelai. Not only due to the lingering effects of the hospital drugs.

“You said Rory’s still following Obama?” Ella asked, leaning against the side of the couch. She had never had surgery before, and never knew how absolutely exhausted she would be afterwards.

Lorelai nodded, taking a sip of the water Luke had brought her. He was currently fighting to get in the kitchen with Jess, who was still insistent on making the pies entirely by himself.

“Yeah, she’s gonna be with him until the inauguration in January,” Lorelai explained. “She’s Woodward and Bernsteining it up in Chicago right now. They’ve been making stops all around the country for months.”

“Wow,” Ella said, a soft smile still playing on her lips. “She’s really doing it. I can’t even imagine how happy she must be. I mean, I always knew she would. But it’s finally happening.”

“I know. Just a few steps closer to Christian Amanpour,” Lorelai agreed proudly, beaming. “But, hey, you don’t seem to be doing too bad yourself.”

“Yeah. Only a few more months and I’ll finally have that damn degree. The dean’s been talking to me about teaching after I graduate, at least part-time. I don’t know, though. I’m still mulling it over,” Ella said, thinking back to the meetings she’d been having recently. Her own classroom, her own office, her own space to create and guide others to create. And, of course, she could still work making art for Truncheon. The more she thought about it, dreamed about it, and talked it over with Jess, the more she could see herself staying at Penn for longer than just the end of the spring semester.

Lorelai’s face was unreadable for a moment, as she swallowed dryly and looked down into her drink. “And you’re really happy here? This is...this is what you want?”

Ella’s face fell just a touch. She had thought maybe such a question was coming. Lorelai had never loved Jess, never even liked him. Part of Ella thought it was completely understandable. An angry teenager who steals beer and pulls stupid pranks and walks out of town without a word? Dick moves, all of them. But Lorelai had never seen anything else from Jess. She had never made the effort to. She didn’t know him.

As she met Lorelai’s eyes once again, Ella gave a careful, sincere nod. “Really. I get to work on my art every day. I get to collect records and plant cactuses and I get to...I don’t have to live for anyone else. I even get to make pies, when I don’t have nine stitches in my side. I never wanted...I never wanted much else.”

“I know,” Lorelai replied, voice hushed with emotion. She glanced back over at her shoulder at the two men in the kitchen, now begrudgingly tag-teaming the desserts. “And Jess?”

.   .   .

The light was fading to an orangey glow by the time everyone had finished up dessert. Julie, Michael, and the girls had to start the drive to New Britain back almost right after, since Michael had work the following morning. Ella was sad to see them go. They were the ones who made her ache for her mother in a not altogether unpleasant way. The day Ella had lost her mother, Julie had lost her big sister. Forever, the two of them would be linked by the trauma. But not just the trauma. Julie provided a home away from home when Ella needed one. And Ella was a makeshift babysitter whenever Julie called. Julie was the only member of Ella’s family who was truly reliable, the one she could count on. Aside from the family she had found in Philadelphia.

But the apartment was still lively with noise as afternoon slowly melted away into evening. Liz and TJ danced near the kitchen to the sound of the Grateful Dead record on the turntable. Off in their own strange world. Ella didn’t mind. She’d been giving Jess’s hand comforting squeezes all day long, noticing how his shoulders were just a touch more tense and his words came out in short, anxious bursts when he spoke to his mother. He wasn’t completely miserable, though. At least, that was what he told her each time she asked.

Maybe the work of setting up the apartment and serving the food helped, keeping him busy. No matter how many times she tried to help him arrange the card tables for everyone to sit at, or put out the dishes, or clean any noticeably dirty surface, he’d only shrugged her off with some snarky remark and made her sit down. Once Luke and Lorelai got there, she could barely shift in her seat without one of the three pairs of watchful eyes landing on her in concern. It was sweet of them, really, but still made her squirm under their gaze. And pissed that she couldn’t enjoy the first Thanksgiving in the apartment the way she wanted to.

Stomach as full as it could be (the surgery had left her appetite at next to nothing), she sat comfortably on the old couch, Luke and Lorelai in the folding chairs across the card table from her. Luke was busy ranting about how corrupt Black Friday and malls in general were to Lorelai, making a sentimental twinkle spark in Ella’s hazel eyes. She was glad they’d had enough room to fit three tables in the space, with four seats at each. The set-up was arguably too tight, but they’d managed. Erin and Annie had only spilled two cups of milk over the course of the night.

Ella felt a sleepy calm beginning to settle in her body. Through the sliding glass doors, she could see a little sliver of the sunset. Soon, the sky would cloud over and there would be another spray of early snow. The room smelled of wintry spices and hot gravy. Jess still hadn’t reached Luke’s level of perfection, but he had done a pretty damn good job with dinner. And, she had to admit, the pies weren’t too shabby either. It shocked her how seamlessly he had pulled it all off, in his element as he put it together. Though not without a scowl and some huffy breaths.

Ella looked back at Jess, sitting to her left. He held Doula in his arms. She sat on his lap, facing him, as his hands gently supported her back. She was a little over six months old, and almost able to sit up on her own. But, Jess figured it’d be best to keep his hands where they were for some insurance. The baby had somehow tugged the pendant of his necklace out from beneath his shirt, and was alternating between staring at it in wonderment and sucking on it. Jess was having some murmured conversation with her, and she occasionally responded with a gurgle or a coo. Even a laugh when he tickled her stomach.

Ella watched in awe. She remembered how terrified he’d been when he’d first met her nieces, at a Thanksgiving long past. But, now, he handled his sister, along with her nieces, with such ease. He had found a deck of cards for old time’s sake, put on a little magic show for the kids during the lull between dinner and dessert. He’d convinced Annie the smaller half of the wishbone was still lucky when Erin had broken off the bigger half. Just because it didn’t look as big, he said, didn’t mean the magic wasn’t as big. When he realized Ella had caught him saying it, he’d looked away with a scarlet flush and cleared his throat. Sometimes, she could really see the writer in the way he spoke.

“What about Hemingway?” he asked quietly as Doula looked up from the pendant with giant brown eyes and drool dripping down her chin.

Doula gave a little squawk of noise, then swatted one sticky hand up to pat Jess’s face. He scrunched up his nose and chuckled. Then, Doula went back to marveling at the small, circular pendant.

“See?” Jess said, tossing a glance at Ella. He could feel her soft gaze. “Doula likes Hemingway.”

Ella scoffed. “Then her taste is just as bad as her brother’s.”

“Don’t listen to her,” Jess said to the baby, leaning in with a conspiratory whisper. “She likes poetry. Like she can criticize anyone for their taste.”

Narrowing her eyes playfully at Jess, Ella put an arm around his shoulders and inched closer to the two of them. “What about Byron, Doula?”

Doula didn’t look up, instead grabbing the pocket of Jess’s t-shirt in her pudgy fist.

Jess smirked pointedly at Ella.

Ella rolled her eyes. “You’ve taken her to the dark side already.”

“If you mean the right side, then yes,” Jess shot back.

Snorting a laugh, Ella pressed a kiss to Jess’s cheek. Her freckled face became almost wistful. Her raspy whisper near his ear was so sincere it made Jess’s stomach do a flip. “I love you.”

“Love you back,” Jess replied, his voice barely audible over all the others in the room.

She was almost surprised he said anything at all. She hadn’t expected reciprocation with so many people around, and it made a joyful tingling spread from her center out to her fingers and toes. She ran an absent hand through the ends of his hair, a smile painted on her lips.

“Thank you for doing this, Jess,” she said. “You’re the fucking best.”

“Language, Eleanor,” Jess scolded, gesturing playfully to Doula, who still fiddled obliviously with the necklace.

Ella snickered. “Right, sorry, sorry. I’m just...you didn’t have to do all this. I’m sorry about everything. I didn’t mean to go and get appendicitis.”

“It’s not your fault,” he said, eyes still trained carefully on the baby in case something unforeseen happened. He was more confident in his childcare abilities than he had once been, but there was still an untrained fear within him that she would tumble straight out of his lap. “Don’t worry, Stevens. I don’t do things I don’t wanna do.”

“Sure you don’t, James Dean,” she teased. “You’re not a good liar.”

“Look who’s talking,” he quipped in return, a smirk still present on his face. “Besides, it was better than scraping plates in the diner all day at Thanksgiving. After doing that a couple years in a row, it’s pretty much nowhere to go but up from now on.”

“It’s true,” she said. “Maybe I should do the dishes, just in case there’s any rogue knives in the sink.”

“Very funny,” he deadpanned, thinking of the scar which had almost completely faded from his left hand. “But I’m still not falling for it. You’re not helping me clean up. You’re gonna watch Carrie and then fall asleep so we don’t have to go back to the hospital with your guts spilling out.”

“I’m not allowed to swear in front of her, but you’re allowed to say stuff like that?” Ella asked, laughing through her words.

“Hey, I don’t make the rules,” Jess joked coolly.

“You really don’t need to clean up by yourself,” Ella continued, not budging. “My stitches aren’t even in the double digits. I could at least help you put the leftovers away.”

“The next time you find me passed out on the bathroom floor with a high fever, then you can tell me all about how much you want to see me cleaning the apartment,” Jess said.

Her smile disappeared. Sighing through her nose in embarrassment, Ella nodded. She swallowed dryly. “Fair enough.”

She couldn’t have been out for more than thirty seconds or a minute. She didn't hit her head or anything. The bathmat had cushioned her fall almost entirely. But she had never passed out before. She’d felt almost as terrified as Jess sounded when he practically carried down to the car and sped to the emergency room. He was right. If the situation were reversed, there was no way in hell he’d be cleaning up alongside her. Especially not a day and a half after surgery. She had to remember the last time she hadn’t been feeling like herself. With a migraine and period cramps right when she felt as though everyone was expecting the most from her. But it was just in her head. It was okay to let go every once in a while. It was okay. She reminded herself that he wasn’t trying to tell her what to do. He was only asking her to take care of herself. That, she could try. She didn’t ever want to put him out like this again. And she didn’t ever want to see the look she had seen on his face when he’d been driving to the hospital again. Not if she could help it.

“But, if it’ll make you feel better, we can have everyone over next weekend and do Thanksgiving food,” Jess suggested. “Chris was pissed he was missing the pies. I don’t think he’d mind if we had a do-over.”

“Yeah, that sounds good, Mariano,” she said. Then, after a moment’s pause: “I’m sorry. I know I can get so wound up.”

“Oh, really? I hadn’t noticed,” he teased.

“I was just excited for my pies,” she admitted. “But, just for the record, you did a kickass job with them. Sorry I was freaking out.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said with a nonchalant shrug. “So, you’re not a good patient. Who cares? I was excited for your pies too. Just please don’t make rhubarb. All the rhubarb makes me think about is Kirk running naked through the town square that time after Christmas.”

And she felt a beaming smile spread over her face as she laughed and gave him a nod of confirmation. She pressed another kiss to his cheek and told him she would make him any pie he wanted. And she felt even more sure of the words she’d spoken to Lorelai the day before. Lorelai had been surprised to hear them, but Ella couldn’t bring herself to be even the least bit shocked as they’d come out of her mouth. She felt it more confidently than she ever had before, seeing him cradle his baby sister in the aftermath of a Thanksgiving he’d put together all by himself, without being asked. Because Jess was Jess. And it was just what he did. She wanted to spend the rest of her life with him.

[thanksjro]

More Than Meets the Eye #13- Swerve Doesn’t Have Any Friends

Okay, let’s go ahead and get this out of the way.

It’s a FUCKING SPORTS BRA AND RUNNING SHORTS ALEX.

And don’t think I don’t see that friggin’ cleavage alien back there. You ain’t slick.

I’m going to make it a law that all comic book artists learn how to draw clothes that don’t vacuum-seal themselves to women’s bodies. Milne gets six months for this infraction alone, and Roche gets a year for the initial bra crime he committed back in Last Stand. Learn how women’s underwear works, you ninnies.

Our issue opens up with Swerve stretching his radio personality muscles.

Oh, Guido Guidi, whisk me away to flights of fancy!

Our artist for this issue is none other than Guido Guidi, ascended from fanwork to deliver us from evil with his near-superhuman ability to emulate other artists’ styles and just make things look really pretty. He was responsible for the mythos pages in the 2012 Annual, AKA the best part. He also filled in on some of the art for Last Stand of the Wreckers, not that I really noticed because he’s just that good.

Swerve lets Blurr know that while it might have looked like the Lost Light had exploded, thus killing everyone onboard back in issue #1, that isn’t actually what happened. I’m glad someone filled in the Cybertronian populace on that.

I was never great at math, but those speech bubbles might be phoning it in a bit.

Swerve says that he’s having a great time on the quest, despite all the hiccups, and we get an explanation for why this long-range communications system hasn’t been seen prior to this point. It’s been broken for a while- most likely due to the quantum jump that started the series off with a bang- but Blaster managed to get it running again. Good job, Blaster. With this little setup for our framing device out of the way, we get into the meat of the story.

Swerve is being nosey about things that weren’t any of his business, happening in a closed off room, when Drift drags him down the hall and hid him away for safety. Swerve doesn’t much appreciate being manhandled, but there’s a method to the madness here.

Drift’s nose has vacated the premises once again, so we’re just going to have to deal with that. And how shapely does one have to be to be known as “the guy with the legs”? I mean, Drift is RIGHT THERE.

Drift uses his own powerful legs to kick down the door to Cyclonus and Tailgate’s room. It turns out that the horrific screaming wasn’t the sound of a murder or sexual relations taking place, but rather that of Cyclonus singing in Old Cybertronian.

My god, he’s completely enamored with this unrepentant murder machine.

We are just all up in Cyclonus’ grill for this panel. Nothing but lips. Was this specified in the script? Because it feels like it might have been specified in the script.

Old Cybertronian, or the Primal Vernacular as some might call it, was last seen in general when Rodimus channeled the will of the trapped Titan all across Tailgate’s chest. It was last seen spoken when we met Vos, the terrible murder gremlin who turns into a gun and uses his face to cause puncture trauma.

Comic books are wild, y’all.

Now that we’ve established that no one’s being killed, Drift goes back to what he was doing earlier, with Swerve deciding to tag along because he’s horrifically lonely. He invites Drift to come room up with him, because I guess if you’re going to sell off your comatose roommate’s bed out from under him, you might as well go for the guy who’s third in command,  is probably one of the hottest guys on the ship, and slices people into chunky salsa if they try anything funny.

Drift politely declines, and awkwardly removes himself from the conversation when Swerve doesn’t take the hint, returning to his sword lesson with Rodimus.

Oh thank god, the obnoxiously pink room is back.

Ultra Magnus bursts into the room, appalled by the actions of his fellow crew members. Some of his concerns are well-placed. Others, well…

Is- is that another friggin’ retainer on those lower teeth? Why does this design choice keep showing up?

So Magnus has imprisoned roughly a third of the ship at this point, and Rodimus suggests he take a chill pill. Magnus doesn’t even know what a chill pill even is, so we’re forced to make use of our most dangerous weapon- the threat of a good time, courtesy of Swerve.

The fact that Ultra Magnus hasn’t reduced Swerve to an oil stain on the floor is genuinely astounding. The guy has zero respect for bureaucracy or proper business management. It has been MONTHS, you dinky little man, get your act together as a business owner.

Swerve takes the bribe, and soon everyone’s shipping off to Hedonia, where the drinks are plentiful and the women… well, most of the Lost Lighters don’t even know what a woman is, so that aspect doesn’t really come into play. Thanks, Furman.

Also, Rung’s back to normal. Don’t worry about it, not a big deal.

Swerve isn’t having much luck on his Roommate Quest, as Tailgate spurns his advances, stating that he’s good kicking it with Cyclonus, mainly because they’re both old as shit.

I see we haven’t quite hit the threshold on the “Cyclonus is allowed to have friends now” meter. Give it a few more issues, I’m sure we’ll get there.

Man, zero for two for Swerve on trying to get a hot roommate. Maybe third time’s a charm?

Rodimus pops into the back of the shuttle to remind everyone that their entire race is more or less despised by the entire galaxy, and to play it safe by using their holomatter avatars.

The revamp by Brainstorm and Rung is truly a blessing, because the avatars in IDW were awful to look at up to this point.

Y’all, that is HOT ROD. Jesus wept.

Getting back to Tailgate’s questionable taste in companionship, Tailgate asks if Swerve and Blurr connected right away. Swerve gives him an affirmative, then starts listing off the guy’s racing stats until Ultra Magnus plops down between the two of them, drawn in by the melodious sound of statistics.

Magnus is having a hard time relaxing, but he’s giving it his best, and I think that’s very commendable of him. It’s hard trying new things.

On the surface of Hedonia, it would appear the B-Movies are having a Pride event in the entertainment district.

Okay, moment of truth- show us those avatars!

Oh thank god, they aren’t totally hideous. Though, isn’t Rewind old as shit? I guess youth is a state of mind. Still, I can’t believe we missed out on silver fox Rewind.

Rung’s line is in response to folks at the time claiming that Rung was a self-insert character, which is interesting, because we’ve already seen what a self-insert looks like when it’s Roberts doing the inserting, and we’ve also seen his Mary Sues.

Rung, while an original character who had appeared in Roberts’ pre-professional works (a single line of text in Eugenesis, where he was a psychiatry play-on-words), he isn’t what I’d consider a Mary Sue. Mary Sues are usually stunningly beautiful, beloved by their peers, insanely talented in ways that no other character is, and typically have some sort of connection to another character that more or less forces them into the story despite not needing to exist.

Mary Sues don’t get their friggin’ heads exploded, or exist in a constantly-forgettable state. Sure, he’s the only therapist we’ve ever seen in the Transformers franchise, but there was kind of a massive need for that sort of character to be created, seeing as all of these sons of guns have PTSD and clinical depression. And, as we’ve seen in previous issues and will continue to see later on, he’s really not even that great at it.

That isn’t to say that he doesn’t have certain traits befitting such a characterization, merely that they don’t add up to equal that sort of whole by issue #13. Transformers (2009)-era Drift is way closer to a true Mary Sue than Rung is.

Anyway, where the hell did Tailgate get to?

They really just let Frodo Baggins in this bar all babybjörned up, huh? Does Tailgate even know what a baby even is at this point? Does he just think he’s a very small person? How much human media has he consumed? We haven’t gotten into the reproductive process for the continuity yet, but fresh Cybertronians aren’t exactly a one-to-one to human infants. Damn it, Roberts, what the fuck am I supposed to make of Babygate?

Whirl’s off in the corner, disguised as a 12-year old girl who’s fucking STRAPPED. Magnus has disappeared, but Rewind locates him pretty easily as Rung makes a comment about Magnus needing to make an appointment with him.

Oh hey, Verity. Been a minute. Careful, ol’ six-eyes over there is leering at you.

The fellas come back to the bar as they truly are, and sit down for a round of drinks. Whirl gets Ultra Magnus a drink that sounds disturbingly like a Cybertronian equivalent to Milk Coke, and we get a little anatomy lesson. Transformers have something called a Fuel Intake Moderation chip, something that keeps them from getting drunk on pretty much the only thing they can consume. Swerve suggests Magnus turn his off so he can have a good time- which I don’t personally agree with, but this is Captain Stick-in-the-Mud we’re talking about here. Magnus gives it a shot.

And that’s a series wrap on Ultra Magnus!

No, the man’s just got no tolerance and has been knocked the hell out by his drink. Things begin devolving. Tailgate is crying. Skids has found out that Whirl didn’t give Magnus Milk Coke at all, but instead the equivalent of liquid cocaine. Swerve is convinced he’s going to prison. Rewind is filming the whole thing.

Nobody actually checks to see if Magnus is actually dead, until Rung gets around to it. Swerve, you’re a doctor by original trade, what the hell are you doing?

The boys sit Magnus at the table to wait out his nap. Hours later, nothing’s changed, except that they’ve started up the nemesis game, and Whirl’s decided he’s going to be rude about monoformers being monoformers. Rung gives a non-answer, because that’s just who he is as a person. Skids names Misfire as his worst enemy, only because he’s still missing a good chunk of memory and can’t remember if he had a worst enemy, but still wants to contribute to the conversation.

Rung, don’t be a dick, he did his best. You were right on top of Fort Max, it was a tricky shot.

Ultra Magnus finally starts waking up, and that’s the point where everyone decides to foot Swerve with the bill for the emotional labor he’s going to have to perform by explaining just what the friggity-frack happened.

Magnus starts laughing, then crying, then offloads his troubles onto Swerve. Magnus feels like he just doesn’t fit in on the Lost Light. He’s just trying to do his job and everyone makes fun of him, or disrespects his authority. He’s trying, he really is, but he’s just not built for post-war life. He’s actually tried to leave his position on the Lost Light, but they just keep pulling him back in.

Probably doesn’t help that Rodimus seems more interested in Drift’s opinion on matters than his own SIC half the time.

Oh no, he’s making digs at the things Swerve’s sensitive about. Where is Rung?

Magnus just wants to be understood, y’know? He’s a fully realized creation. He’s got interests. Like music! And the fact that Swerve is missing his Autobot badge!

This was the point where MTMTE was still bouncing back and forth on whether it wanted to commit to the crotch badge. It was a tumultuous time for everyone, very dark days.

WHERE THE FUCK IS RUNG

Magnus, having had enough of sharing his feelings, takes another sip of his cocaine and slips back into unconsciousness. Swerve admits to his limp body that people don’t actually like him, but rather only stick around because of what he can offer- namely, a good time.

The rest of the Swerve posse comes back, with Cyclones having joined the party. Rung shows off his new model ship, which gets Rewind started on his movie collection. He pulls up the opening ceremony for the Ark 1. Y’know, the Ark 1, that ship that Cyclonus was on that disappeared into the Dead Universe for six million years. The Ark 1 that Tailgate was supposed to be on.

Before we can get started however, someone throws the model at Rewind’s head.

That someone is none other than Cyclonus, who proceeds to fly into a rage, throwing tables and shoving the still-unconscious Ultra Magnus to the floor. My word, what a reaction! What could possibly be setting him off so much? Does he not like being reminded of his fated trip to the stars? Is this a manifestation of trauma from that event?

Who knows? No time for questions, Skids is too busy punching him in the face.

Tailgate intervenes, explaining that because Cyclonus and himself are so goddamn old, the engex Cyclonus consumed is wreaking havoc on his body. He tells the rest of them to go on while he tries to calm Cyclonus down. Interesting that Rewind doesn’t have any sort of input on this, given that he is also super fucking old, but there’s no time for questions! We’ve got to get Ultra Magnus back on the shuttle in the next 20 minutes, or else they’ll be stuck on Hedonia FOREVER.

They start throwing Magnus on the floor repeatedly, trying to get his t-cog to spin up. No dice, however.

It’s 4AM. Do you know where your Domey is? Because Rewind sure as hell doesn’t.

Okay, time for Plan B.

I’m guessing not, Rung. I’m guessing not.

Using Magnus as a trampoline does the trick, and the boys are rewarded with the sight of Magnus’ alt-mode… resting on its roof, upside down. They get him sorted, pile in the cab- Rewind is driving, which leads me to believe he at least has some experience handling a vehicle. Chromedome does turn into a car…

I don’t even know what that sort of activity implies for a Transformer. We won’t go any further down this line of thought.

The boys manage to get Ultra Magnus to the shuttle in time, and all’s well that ends well!

This is about the time that Blaster knocks on the glass at Swerve to wrap things up, seeing as he’s been at this for over nine hours now. There’s one last little aside before we’re done with our story, however, and it involves just what happened in the bar after everyone else left.

Cyclonus calmed down almost immediately after the rest of the guys left, paying for what he broke and inviting Tailgate to have a seat.

Well, I say invite, but it’s really more of an order.

If you’d already figured out at this point that this jumpy little marshmallow was lying about being the biggest badass who ever lived, a gold star for you! It turns out, dear Tailgate has been crafting a fabrication, spinning a yarn, telling a tall tale since Day One on the Lost Light. The story has been feeding us a steady diet of fish the whole time!

Red herring!

Red herring!

Red herring of Tailgate’s own design! Autopedia’s mods are a friggin’ joke.

Tailgate was supposed to be a the Ark 1 launch, but it was because he was on the cleanup crew. Boy’s a sluicer, and his arm SHOULD say "waste disposal”. Through a cunning use of his wits and cold reading, Tailgate faked his way through the dismantling of the bomb on Temptoria. A smart boy, he is, if not a bit self-centered.

Which brings us to why exactly Cyclonus freaked out in the bar: he wasn’t having an episode, but rather faking a reaction to prevent Tailgate’s lie from being exposed. He still thinks that Tailgate should come clean about this whole thing, before things get really messy, but it wouldn’t be an issue of MTMTE without some raw-ass emotions getting thrown about.

Cyclonus, who hasn’t allowed himself to feel anything other than simmering rage or national pride for over six million years, is beginning to feel something for Tailgate.

That feeling is sympathy, and maybe a little pity.

He offers to teach Tailgate a song to help him feel better, because that’s what he does when he has feelings.

And given that Cyclonus seems to sing often enough that Tailgate’s gotten used to the horrific sound, it might be that Cyclonus has feelings a hell of a lot more often than he lets on.

Roberts, how many times are you going to make Tailgate cry? How much pain are you going to subject him to before you’re satisfied?

The scene closes out on the two of them getting their karaoke on in the empty bar, in the god-awful language that is Old Cybertronian. I can only imagine that they get kicked out of the bar pretty quickly after this.

Getting back to the present, Swerve has finally, finally finished his story, closing out with an invitation for Blurr to come visit Swerve’s.

Blaster gets ready to shoot one hell of a voice message at Blurr, but there’s a problem; the number Swerve has isn’t long enough to be a personal hailing frequency.

Yeah, turns out that Tailgate isn’t the only liar on board the Lost Light.

Four million years ago, Swerve met Blurr at a publicity event, got way too friendly with a celebrity, pestered the guy until he gave him a fake number, and has convinced himself that he made a life-long friend to this very day.

Big oof.

Later, back at Swerve’s, Swerve is busy cleaning the glassware when Ultra Magnus comes in, sober and having just gotten out of surgery to fix his fuel tanks. Guess that second sip of Nucleon really wasn’t a good idea.

Swerve tries to tell a lie about what happened the night before, only to have the dawning horror that Magnus remembered the entire night, as he’s presented with a new badge. Swerve, bolstered by the fact that, while Magnus didn’t enjoy the previous evening, he appreciated having company, begins to ask Magnus if he’d want to room with him.

Wow, zero for three! That’s rough, buddy.

Kind of a bummer end to this whole issue, but it was still decently light, tone-wise, for MTMTE. A great deal of fun was had, in between all the mortifying reveals of our characters inner demons.

...Well, shit.

[rfaromance]

Hiii im not seeing time stamps on mobile so I hope matchups are still open? I’m totally up for it! I’m never sure which guy might suit me best, they’re all so amazing and I’m weird.

I’m 26, but I’m a child at heart. I props have ADHD, my therapist isn’t sure lol. But it makes me extremely passionate about everything I do. I’m a ENFP and it shows. I love love love history. I’m about to graduate to be a teacher (majoring in history, English and German as a second language) so I can work abroad. Might go for a PhD program; already published a linguistic paper and worked for my uni for a bit. Or just mixing up some school and being the best teacher ever. I’m not sure if I’d rather have a life of adventure or just be an adult and kick ass career wise. Reallllly unsure lol. But that’s for now. I really want a farm and work as an author once I’m done conquering the world. I like being outdoors (I’m a scout), I’d totally be up for vacations in the jungle and off the beaten tracks.

I’m a storm of feelings, like, all year around. I like to think that the whole “MC you’re so kind and warm-hearted” bit fits pretty well. But sometimes I forget my own well being while caring for someone else. Been f*d over a few times already :/ have pretty weird mix of anxiety whenever I go out. I don’t trust super easy but I’m ride or die for the people I love. The guy would have to be ok with constantly giving reassurance haha. My love language is touch and I love giving love, but sometimes I’m pushing the whole world away if I’m having a bad day. I’ll make up for it with thousand little surprises. I may be annoying sometimes, but I still think I’m a good girlfriend. Sometimes it’s hard for me to stop my emotional side from running wild, but if I do I am pretty logical and analytical. This whole ADHD thing where I notice tiny details about everyone? Yeah. Exhausting, but sometimes it’s a gift. As long as I can just be myself at home. I do need quite a bit of time for myself sometimes. I can get worked up when there’s too much noise or when I feel ignored. Sometimes I get angry, mostly at myself. I think I look like a lost puppy or something, sometimes I don’t even talk bc I’m so confused and overwhelmed lol. I won’t let go of someone who’d help me steer through that stuff.

. .... Other than that I love to play the ukulele (campfire amateur) and sing. My friends say I’m pretty good- or at least they love to listen :) I’d totally love to learn to dance. Also: I normally work as a bartender/waitress and i totally think about mixing drinks at the RFA parties all the time.

Last thought: I’m wildly independent. I would definitely NOT let anyone get overly protective all the time (or reach a toxic level of jealousy for that matter). I’ve been in a relationship with extreme gaslighting and verbal abuse before and I like to think I learned my lesson. It’s all about admiring and respecting the shit out of each other. Total equality.

Sorry if this is too much, I’m totally bored today bc of lockdown.

Hi! I am so sorry for the delay! After much deliberation, I would pair you with...

Jihyun Kim (V)!

V has dealt with a tumultuous relationship before, and honestly, he would be well-equipped to handle both your emotional and your more logical side. He’d understand that you have your limits and your boundaries, and he would respect them. He’d also support you unconditionally--he’s self-sacrificing to a fault for the people he loves. Just as we saw him trying to do everything within his power to get Rika the help she needed, he’d stick by your side through thick and thin.

His artistic side would LOVE hearing you play the ukulele and sing. He’d maybe use your songs and your image as inspiration for some of his own works. He’d also be in love with your brain; he’s drawn to the wise, to the clever, to the eclectic. Plus, being a bit of a wine connoisseur, he’d probably be fascinated with your mixed drinks and be willing to taste test all of them!

He’s protective but he also respects boundaries. He doesn’t have the same jealous tendencies that some of the other boys have, either. He had to grow up too fast, unfortunately, but because of that he’s learned a LOT about love.

Jihyun was a selfish boy who grew into a selfless young man. Total equality is what he’s all about. No more secrets, just open, true love without smothering one another. Not everyone needs love like the sun, but if you asked for it, he’d give it to you in a flash.

[boogiewrites]

No.9: The Body

Chapter Five

Characters: Diego Hargreeves & OFC Eve Corpuz

Summary: Diego breaks down Eve unexpectedly, and Luther attempts to break down Diego.

Warnings/Tags: Light descriptions of fighting. Little bit of Luther. Talk of past trauma/abuse/death. 

Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. Please like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed it! It helps out us writers A LOT! If you’d like added to the tags, just let me know. This is a multi-chapter fic.

Eve walked into the gym after work as she did most nights now. It greeted her half-lit but still bright enough to see the training area. She’d continually thanked Luther for being so accommodating, and he didn’t seem to mind in the least. She felt almost bad keeping him in the dark about her powers. She was dying to tell them all, to have people understand, to be around people like her as she tried to newly navigate this alternate reality she’d found herself having to accept. But Diego said to trust him, it was best to keep it as low key as possible until she felt a bit more certain. She did trust him, so she did as he suggested even if she felt like a kid being denied a gift.

She had acetaminophen in her system, her usual jug of water, and another large container of Gatorade in tow. She was as ready as she’d ever been. She was actually glad she decided to go late instead of early for her sessions. She was at least awake and warmed up and accustomed to the hungover feeling at this point.

“You showed up.” Diego smirks as he wraps his hands to ready for training.

“Of course I did.” she sasses back and throws her bag against the wall. She also liked not having anyone looking at her or bothering her while she worked out. No one around to steal her things, she could toss them instead of throwing them into a locker and be able to totally focus.

“You were getting a little faded when I left last night, didn't know if you’d be up to this.”

“I’ve already put in a shift today, dude. Don’t come at me with that shit.” she laughs and begins taking off her outer layers. Still staying in an oversized t-shirt and leggings as was her usual, she shook and jumped to warm up everything after it’s exposed to the still cold late winter air of the city that drafted through the old brick walls of the industrial-looking building.

“How was work?” he asked, always down to hear the gross-out stories she had to tell.

“Not great.”

“You good?” he asks, brows high and making an effort to meet her eyes.

“I’ll be fine. Just y’know, dealing with kids is hard.”

“They call you a butt head and it hurt your feelings?”

“No, they died from a drunk driver.” she stares into his eyes and she sees his instant regret.

“Oh shit. I-I'm sorry.” his posture slinks.

“It's what I signed up for, Diego. I’ll be fine.” she motions her hand to halt his sympathetic approach to her. “Just wear me out so I have to go home and collapse into a dreamless sleep.”

“Oh I’ve never let a girl down that’s asked me that.” he falls back into his playful self, trying to deflect the embarrassment he felt.

“Let’s not start now. C’mon.” she begins stretching and heads over to the heavy bags.

------

“Eve. You aren’t hitting like you MEAN it!” he says for the fifth time, trying her patience.

“I’m TRYING! I don’t know what you mean? I’m putting my whole body into it.”

“No, this isn’t about your body, you’ve got to FEEL it.” he shakes the bag as he holds it so she can hit it. She’d been shown how to wrap her hands, and get used to the feeling of hitting something and it jarring her back. But she kept hitting the bag, focused and form correct and he kept asking for more. She was starting to get frustrated.

“Is my form wrong?” she asks with dropped shoulders, panting.

“No, it’s perfect. That’s the problem. I want to see you get messy. In a real fight, you won’t have your head on perfectly straight. I want to see you give everything you’ve got and HIT. Like you HATE this bag.”

“I’ll hit it like it’s you if you don’t stop with this hippy sounding nonsense.”

“THAT is what you need!” he says exasperated too, trying to get her to give in and break, put her heart, not just her mind into it. He knew a fighter was inside her but her years of polish to appear as perfect as possible was a hard varnish to breakthrough. “Imagine it’s someone you hate.”

“I don’t HATE anyone…” she lies.

He cocks a brow at her. “Bullshit. Think of something that made you cry, made you lash out, made you want to beat someone's head in. HEY imagine it’s whoever stabbed you? What would you have done now that you KNOW how to fight huh? Imagine it’s them and that you’re going to give them what's coming to them.”

She takes a deep breath and presses her lips together. He didn’t really know what he was asking of her. Her therapist would be slapping him for requesting her to do such a thing. But she trusted his philosophy. And she imagined the bag was her mother. “I’ll… try okay. Just...stop talking and let me... focus.” she rasps out and stretches her neck.

He motions zipping his mouth and throwing away the key, and braces himself for her hit.

A one-two. A flash of her mother screaming at her. A few more hits. The feeling of true fear as she saw the wild in her mother's eyes. She begins a pattern, a few hits, and a deep breath. Eventually, it becomes a continuous downpour of hits, making sounds as she hits each time. It sounded like pain and Diego knew she’d found what she needed to fuel herself.

“There it is. You got it. Keep goin’.” he says softly, watching her eyes.

Her naturally dark hair is falling out of its tight ponytail, now flopping with every hit. She could hear her mother's voice, feel that fear for her life, and the deluge of insults that would be her inner monologue for so many years after. The hits came harder, with more grunts and whimpers after each one, each a time she’d been afraid. Her breathing buckles, the hits harder and harder, her knuckles aching until she throws in knees and kicks. It doesn’t stop, the feelings were broken open and he’d gotten what he wanted, but at what cost to her.

Diego was proud for a few shining moments until he saw the tears start to fall. Her lips went from tight to gasping, sobs breaking through her angry sounds of impact until her hits lost strength and her head hit against the bag. Her shoulders shook and his eyes went wide, quickly reaching around to her support her as the sobs hit and her knees gave out.

With an unsure hand on her back, her on all fours and trying to gasp through the sobs, the day and her past became too heavy at that moment and it all hit her, breaking her down into a tired, sweaty mess on the gym floor.

He sits next to her, silently, a now supportive rub to her back. “I”m sorry Eve I didn’t-”

She reaches her arms back and hits him lightly. “It’s-you didn’t-” stuttering inhale that she couldn't control.

“Sh… just breathe. Sit up here.” he pulls her up, sitting on her knees, pressing between her shoulder blades to give her lungs room to breathe. ��Count in five, out seven.” He counts out loud for her, as her hands begin to still against her thighs and the sounds of pain cease. “I didn’t know you had panic attacks.”

“I dont,” she says wiping her eyes. “I just... it’s been a hard day.” she begins more weakly crying and lets a small laugh out to hide her pain.

“Uh…’ he takes his hands off of her as she begins to let herself stretch and retie her hair. “I think this is where I ask if you wanna talk about it?” he offers and his delivery makes her laugh.

“Better question.” she moves to wipe her face with the hem of her shirt. “Do you wanna hear it?”

With a pause he answers, “Of course I do.” and she turns to face him with still watery eyes.

“Really?” the disbelief almost hurt his feelings.

“Yeah. If we’re gonna be in this together, I wanna know what’s gonna set you off like this. I don’t wanna...make things worse than I already do.” he shrugs.

She nods, turning and plopping down to sit on her butt and cross her legs. “That’s... that’s really nice…” she wells up again and then laughs and rubs her face. “Must be time for me to start my period or somethin’,” she mumbles and it makes him chuckle.

“Or you’ve had a shitty upbringing that still follows you around no matter where you run. Not that I would know anything about that though, right?”

She considered hugging him. For the goofiness he showed, he also had a depth that you had to access through empathy. They both had finally let that facade of having their shit together break down and now they sat like two children in a play circle, sharing secrets.

“Did your dad ever stab you?” she asks with a weak smile as she let herself slump over with a deep sigh.

“He did actually. Tried to kill me.” he nods with an annoyed look on his face.

“Well fuck.” she snorts and rubs her face. “Maybe you do get it.”

“I do.” he leans in and puts his hand on her shoulder. “So tell me.” he asks softly.

“It was the night I ran away for good.” she begins, eyes wandering and looking at nothing as she recalled it. “There was this kid, this guy at school that used to bully me. He’d had me cornered and was... “ she sighs, “he was trying to hurt me. And he ended up having a seizure and dying.” her eyes stare out blankly. “Whispers started fast. Saying I killed him. Although how would I?” she says defensively still. “My mom...knowing about my...abilities she did blame me. She became convinced I’d kill her too. So she tried to beat me to it.” her face wrinkles, pulling her knees to her chest.

“Shit.” he quietly exhales. “That's fucked up, Eve.”

She lets out a genuine louder laugh that confuses him. “Yeah, it is.” She shakes her head and rests her chin on her knees. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed but we’re both pretty fucked up, Diego.” she offers with a smile and tears still wet on her lashes. It makes him give the smile back, a soft laugh shared between them. Sometimes you had to laugh not to cry.

After pulling her to her feet, he tells her there’s no way he’s making her train more tonight and sends her home. A comforting hug between them before she parts, it felt right to do so. She’d entered the gym with a secret that no one else knew, and left with the weight of it shared. It was no small step, and even though it hurt like hell, in the aftermath it felt worth it.

Diego has a contemplative look on his face as he begins to tidy and shut everything down. Luther appears from the men’s locker room, an apologetic look on his face.

“Didn’t know you were still here big guy.” Diego looks him up and down, trying to read him.

“Yeah…” he drags on, eyes not meeting his brothers.

“What?” Diego demands with a jutted out chin.

“I...uh...kind of heard….all of that…” he pushes back his chin and presses his lips. “Were you gonna tell us you found another person like us or… just keep that to yourself?”

“I didn’t want her to get freaked out by you all and leave.”

“Well she’s already met me and I’m the freakiest there is.” he chuckles softly.

He shrugs in non-insulting agreement. “I just… she’s the first person since..”

“Yeah.” Luther interrupts.

“Y’know who's GOT me. Like, she gets how messed up everything is, man. I don’t want her to…” he sighs and drops the tension in his shoulders. “I don’t want her to leave.”

Luther put a large hand to Deigo’s shoulder. “Ever think she might want to be a part of this?”

“No, Jesus why would she?”

“She’s been alone since she was what? Sixteen she said? She didn’t have support like we did growing up.”

“You’re gonna call what dad did to us support?”

“Look, the point is.. She doesn’t have a family. And even if you hate your family, like you claim to, you still keep coming back right?”

“I can stop.” he sarcastically suggests.

“Well, maybe that’s what she needs. A family. Or at least y’know...friends that understand her. She didn’t know what was going on when she was younger. Can you imagine that? I can’t.” he muses with raised brows, feeling bad for the kind doctor lady.

“I hate to admit this...but you’ve got a point.”

“I know. I do that sometimes. If anyone would listen.” he mumbles defensively. “And I mean.. she’s very nice. She seems...cool. I wouldn’t mind being able to help her out too.” He offers, and Diego knows he only means it in the nicest way possible.

“She is cool.” he nods and looks down, voice soft. “Just let me… I’ll do...somethin’. Just give me some time okay?”

“Secrets safe with me.” Luther says proudly.

“Oh shit, Luther you can’t keep a secret.” Diego groans.

“Yes I can!”

“This is going to end so badly…” Diego complains childishly and loudly. “She’s gonna get introduced to Five and he’s gonna be a DICK and she’s gonna leave and hate me and-!”

“Ah. I get it.” Luther grins.

“What? What’s there to get? We’re a bunch of crazy people, and she’s a nice girl and you’re all gonna freak her out!”

“You like her.” Luther keeps the same cheesy grin on his face.

“PSH!” Diego says dramatically. “I don’t- pfft. I don’t like her. She’s cool and all but-”

“Diego…” Luther comes in and gives his brother a forced hug. “Can’t believe I didn’t realize it sooner.”

“I don't.” he murmurs into his brother chest, being held against his will.

“It’s been like what? A year? Over a year now? Since… Voldemort happened

“Voldemort?” he pushes away.

“She who must not be named.”

“You can say her name.” he grumbles.

“Since Lila. You were a wreck. It’s about time you started to move on.”

Diego pouts and holds a low brow, looking up with disdain for his brother. Who was right. “Doesn’t mean you have to say it.” he mumbles back but Luther hears and laughs.

“I can’t wait to meet your girlfriend, Diego!” he cheers out as his brother sulks away.

“SHE’S NOT MY GIRLFRIEND!” he protests but the flush on his cheeks from embarrassment says otherwise.

@s-h-e-w-r-i-t-e-s​ @jaegeeeeer​ @diegos-butt​ @anglovesthis