#like you can say that their behavior in bag end was similar

[themoonking]

i will never understand why peter jackson decided to make the dwarves so awful when they stay in rivendell. this is a conscious change that gives nothing. they’re our main characters that we’re supposed to like, WHY would you make them rude and discourteous to their host(s) for literally no reason?

because bestie elrond is bestie elrond, he’s letting 14 guys he’s never met stay in his house as guests, and the company responds by starting a food fight, bathing in a fountain, tearing up furniture to start a fire, et cetera et cetera. it makes them look like awful people who love being destructive at worst, and complete fucking idiots who can’t see what’s wrong with their behavior at worst.

[bethanythebogwitch]

Wet Beast Wednesday: parrotfish

Which fish hangs out on a mermaid pirate's shoulder and repeats what she says in a high-pitched voice? The parrotfish, of course. Or at least in fiction they should (certainly will in my D&D world). But even in real life, parrotfish are still pretty interesting.

(Image: a common parrotfish (Scarus psittacus) seen from the side in front of rocks and corals. It is a brightly-colored fish, mainly light blue but with patches and stripes of yellow and pink on the fins. Its mouth is open, revealing what appears to be a beak. End ID)

Parrotfish are fish famous for their mouths and eating habits. There are about 90 species known. While they were historically considered their own taxonomic family, they have since been reclassified a subset of the wrasse family and there is still some debate on how to classify them. Most species are on the smaller size, but a few can get very large. The largest species is the green humphead parrotfish (Bolbometopon muricatum) at 1.5 meters (4.9 ft) and 75 kg (165 lbs) while the smallest species is the bluelip parrotfish (Cryptotomus roseus) reaching 13 cm (5 in). I could not find an average weight for the bluelips. What makes parrotfish really stand out visually is their colors and their mouths. Most species are very brightly colored, with distinct markings and males are usually more brightly colored than females. Their mouths are dominated by what appear to be beaks, which gave them their common name. These beaks are actually made of approximately 1,000 teeth arranged in 15 rows. As the teeth wear out, they drop off and are replaced by the row behind them. The teeth are made of fluorapatite, the second hardest biomineral int the world. To support their hardness, the fluorapatite crystals that make up the teeth are woven together in a structure very similar to chainmail, resulting in very hard teeth that measure in at a 5 on the Mohs scale of hardness. For reference, iron is a 4 and higher numbers are harder. The teeth can also handle 530 tons of pressure. You could put the weight of 200 black rhinos on a tooth and it would be fine. The beaks are powerful enough to bite through rock. Which is what they use it for, but more on that below. Another unusual feature of parrotfish is how they sleep. Some species make their own sleeping bags, which would be adorable if they weren't made of mucus. The mucus is produced using glands in the gills and looks like a transparent bubble. The fish sleeps in the mucus cocoon and when it wakes up, it eats the cocoon. There have been several proposed benefits of the cocoon. It contains chemicals that harm skin parasites while also providing a barrier that keeps new parasites from reaching the fish. It also likely blocks the fish's scent, helping it hide from predators.

(Image: a green humphead parrotfish (Bolbometopon muricatum) swimming over yellow coral. It is large and mostly a uniform green color, except for the front of its head, which is pink. It has a large, fleshy lump on the top of its head. End ID)

(Image: a close-up of a parrotfish's beak. The top and bottom beaks are divided into two halves, left and right. The beak is bade of small, circular teeth that overlap each other. End ID)

(Image: another common parrotfish seen from the front. It is inside of a mucus cocoon, which appears as a transparent bubble around the fish. Bits of sand dot the cocoon's surface. End ID)

Parrotfish live worldwide, though the majority of species are found in the Indo-Pacific. They live in warm, shallow waters with lots of rocky reefs, especially coral reefs. They use those powerful teeth to eat and what they eat most is algae. There are three main types of feeding behavior: excavating, scraping, and browsing. Excavators bite into rocks to get their food, scrapers crape food off of the surface of the rocks, and browsers go after larger food sources like seagrass and sponges. Some of the larger parrotfish species also make coral a large part of their diet. When they eat, they naturally get rock in their mouths, moreso in excavators. Because their food clings to the rock, spitting the rocks out would deny them food. Instead, parrotfish use pharyngeal teeth set in their throats to grind the rock into sand, which then passes through the digestive tract. When it exists the digestive tract, it is in the form of fine grains of rock. Or to put it another way, parrotfish eat rock and poop sand. A single parrotfish can produce up to 40 kg (88lbs) of sand yearly, and bigger species can produce even more than that. The process of rock being broken down by living things is called bioerosion and parrotfish are one of the most famous sources of bioerosion. The sand they produce can serve as the basis for new growth of coral or other species and helps reinforce nearby islands. In places like Hawai'i, the Caribbean, and the Maldives, it's estimated that up to 80% of the famous white sand is produced by parrotfish and they serve as a major source of incoming earth to support the islands. This makes parrotfish ecosystem engineers. Their eating of algae is also majorly important to their ecosystems. Algae can overgrow and smother delicate ecosystems like coral reefs and seagrass beds and decaying algae draws oxygen out of the water. Parrotfish help the health of their environments by keeping the algae population at healthy levels. Parrotfish also eat seaweeds and sponges that grow much faster than coral and can smother coral reefs. Parrotfish are considered keystone species in many reefs, including the great barrier reef and their population dropping correlates with reduced health of reefs. Damaged reefs tent to have larger parrotfish populations and those populations drop as the reef recovers.

(Image: a group of many parrotfish feeding on coral. They are all the same species and are mostly blue, with yellow heads and stripes on the face. They appear to be biting the the coral. End ID)

Parrotfish are protogynous sequential hermaprodites. This means that all parrotfish are born female and can become male later in life. The transition is usually triggered when there are too many females or not enough males in a location, though in some species any fish that reaches a certain size will become male. Some parrotfish are solitary while others are social. In social species, the social groups consist of a large male and a harem of females that he protects and claims mating rights with. Other males will attempt to fight the male for dominance via headbutting and threat displays and occasionally one of his harem members will become male to challenge him. Males are usually more colorful than females, which they use to woo females, but also puts them at greater risk of predation. If the harem leader dies and is not replaces, one member of the harem will transition to male and replace him. Many species perform courtship dances during nights of the full moon. In non-social species, males will perform displays and fight with each other to attract females. In social species, the dominant male will mate with his harem while smaller males without harems will try to sneakily woo claimed females or sneak in and mate without being noticed. Parrotfish are broadcast spawners. The female releases her eggs into the water and the males releases sperm to fertilize them. The eggs will drift on the current until settling, after which the larvae will hatch. As with most fish species, only a very few of the larvae will reach adulthood.

(Image: a Mediterranean parrotfish (Sparisoma cretense). It is mostly bright red, but with a yellow patch above the tail and a yellow stripe around the eye that runs down to the belly. A large patch behind the eye is blue. End ID)

Thankfully, most parrotfish species are not particularly endangered. The largest threat to them comes from habitat loss as pollution and climate change harms coral reefs. Reintroducing parrotfish to damaged reefs helps them recover. All species are edible, though there is no commercial fishery for them. While parrotfish are capable of delivering powerful bites, there are few reports of humans getting bit. That being said, I found one case where someone had skin on his penis bitten off by a parrotfish. And yes, that link has pictures. Enjoy.

(Image: a blue parrotfish (Scarus coeruleus) looking at the camera. It is a blue fish with darker patches around the eye. Its snout is bulbous and the beak points downward. End ID).

[cowgurrrl]

Keep the Wolves Away

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Author's note: Dedicated to my real life Andies. Thank you for making me feel easy to love.

Summary: The worst decision [5.2k]

Warnings: platonic threatening, discussions of bad mental health, so much flirting that (spoiler alert) might be real, possible THE shittiest ex I ever could've written, all the southern pet names, alcohol consumption, the resurgence of an old nude of readers, gaslighty behavior, smoking cigarettes (don't smoke kids), Joel talking reader out of a spiral, two (2) kisses

"So, it's a date." Andie declares once you're done explaining everything to her over FaceTime. You pause your blush application to roll your eyes at her. 

"It's not a date!"

"I'm sorry, so I'm just supposed to believe you when you say you're going to be just friends with the hot, sweet single dad who sounds like he's head over heels for you?"

"He is not head over heels for me." You sound a little petulant, and Andie laughs like she did when you were in high school and trying to hide a crush from her. 

"Babe, he willingly went on a high school field trip just so he could see you."

"His daughter was there. I'm sure he wanted to spend time with her."

"I'm sure he did because he's a great dad, but he also wanted to see you in your element. It's sexy watching someone do the thing they love." 

"Yeah, yeah." You brush her off, and she scoffs. You toss your makeup brush back into its bag and check out your outfit in the mirror. It's nothing insane— just a plain black slip dress— but now that Joel's arrival is getting closer and closer, you're rethinking everything. "Do I look okay?"

"You look stunning!" Andie chirps. "I'm sure your not boyfriend will think the same thing."

"I'm going to get a plane ticket to Austria just so I can choke you out with my own two hands." You threaten, but she laughs so hard you can't stop smiling. Once the trans-Atlantic giggling dies down, the line goes quiet, and you take a deep breath as you pull your mascara out. 

"Are you nervous to see him?" She asks gently. Andie came home for the summer dubbed The Dark Days. She stayed over when the one-bedroom apartment felt too big and got you out of the house when you couldn't stand the four walls anymore. She took whatever he left behind to his new apartment so you wouldn't have to (and gave him a piece of her mind while she was at it). She made you believe in love again. Not sticky, frustrating, unpredictable romantic love but pure, easy, all-knowing love that can only come from long-enduring relationships such as yours. 

For a long time after he left, you thought you were hard to love. Too loud, too bright, too much. Until you were out at a bar with her one night, trying to find the remnants of your independence and self-esteem tucked under sweaty beers and cracked leather chairs, when someone pointed out how similar you and Andie were. "Like two sides of the same coin," the woman told you. Andie is one of the easiest people in the world to love with her quick wit, creativity, and smile. And you realized for the first time if you had even a shred of that, even if only by dint of knowing and being loved by her, then you must be easy to love too. You must be worth the mess and heartache and stained fingerprints. 

So, yeah, Andie was less than pleased to hear that all that hard work could be undone by seeing him again, but she was supportive. 

"I don't know," you sigh. "I'm not a kid anymore. I've had more years without him than I did with him, but it's still scary."

"I know." 

"I don't even know what I'm gonna say to him."

"He'll probably be too busy with the gallery and everything. Maybe you won't even have to." She says, and you groan at the uncertainty of everything. 

"God, why did I say yes?" You ask as a knock interrupts your whining. You end your call with a quick "I love you, thank you, I'll text you" before throwing your phone down. "Come in!" You yell from the bathroom as you rapidly finish doing your makeup. There's a pause on the other side before he jiggles the knob and finally comes in. "I'm just finishing up in the bathroom. Give me a minute." 

"D'you always leave your door unlocked?" Joel asks. The sound of his unsure footsteps reaches your ears, and you smile at the thought of him looking around your apartment like a lost toddler. 

"Only when I know someone's coming over," you say. "Sorry, it's a mess."

"Oh, this is nothin'. You should see Ellie's room." He says, his feet pacing the floor. You swipe on a cute lipstick you never wear and finally step out into the living room where Joel is waiting. He's wearing a black button-up shirt with nice pants as he stands with his back to you, looking at some of the things on your wall. 

"Well, don't you look nice?" You compliment, making him turn around with a shy smile. His eyes roam over you, taking in every detail or sliver of skin he hasn't seen before. His intense gaze reminds you of how he looked at you in the bar when you were sure his eyes would melt you. He looks dumbstruck, and his Adam's apple bobs when his eyes finally settle on your face. 

"Wow… you look-"

"Choose carefully." You tease to take some of the tension out of the room. 

"Beautiful," he says, thwarting your efforts. "You always look beautiful." 

"Thank you. Not so bad yourself." 

"You like it? Ellie helped me pick it out," he anxiously fiddles with the sleeves of his shirt. "Feels weird." 

"What specifically feels weird?" You ask, stepping closer to him to examine his outfit. He smells like aftershave and the cologne he's prone to wearing. Why the fuck do you have his cologne memorized, you think to yourself. 

"I dunno. I think I just feel outta place." 

"Well, you don't look out of place," you say. "These might be what's doing it, though." You tap the top buttons of his shirt, the ones buttoned all the way up to his chin like a toddler going to Christmas mass. 

"Ellie said I should do all of 'em since it's a fancy art thing."

"Well, you should stop taking fashion advice from a fifteen-year-old," you laugh. "I promise it's not fancy enough to justify being uncomfortable." 

"I'm takin' your word for it." He says as he reaches up to undo his top two buttons, revealing freckles across his chest and collarbones and the tiniest sliver of a gold chain resting against his throat. For some reason, you can't tear your eyes away from the veins in his neck or the delicate necklace stuck to his warm skin. "What, it really looks that bad?" He thankfully breaks through your thoughts, and you try to recover by shaking your head.

"No, no. Not at all. You look really nice," you say, clearing your throat. "Let me get my purse, and we can go." You don't even wait for him to respond. You just turn on your heels and walk to your bedroom. In the security of your bedroom, you let out a long exhale and try to get your mind back on track. 

You're just nervous. He's being nice. You're being nice back. It's nothing. It's nothing. It's nothing, you mentally chant. When you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, you almost have to laugh at the fierce blush on your cheeks and the distracted look in your eyes. "You better get it together." You say, pointing at yourself in the mirror like it's gonna do anything to make tonight smoother.

The gallery is packed when you get there. Joel curses under his breath as he tries to find a parking spot, and you try to keep your anxiety at bay. All you have to do is show your face, look at the paintings, and leave. Maybe you can manage to steal a bottle of the cheap wine they're undoubtedly serving. It'll be an hour. Two tops. You can do this. 

You're so in your head that you didn't notice that Joel parked the car or that he was looking at you until he bumped your knee with his. 

"You okay?" He asks. You take a deep breath and nod.

"Just need a second." You mumble. You fiddle with your earrings, your dress, anything to keep your hands busy as you psyche yourself up. 

"When's the last time you saw this asshole?"

"He wasn't always an asshole," you try to redirect, but he raises his eyebrows at you. "Since I graduated college." 

"We don't have to go in." He offers easily, and you give him a look. 

"Yes, we do. My name's on the list and everything." 

"So?" He shrugs. "The world's not gonna end just cause one person didn't show up."

"But you drove all the way here."

"And I can drive you all the way back. Besides, it's nice having a pretty girl in my truck. It wouldn't hurt to have you here next to me for a little while longer." He says, and you laugh, feeling some weight lift off your shoulders.

"You get many pretty girls sitting in your truck?"

"Just my pretty girls." 

"Right." You say, and he smiles, creating familiar crinkles in the corners of his eyes. They look a little deeper in the moonlight, but his eyes shine differently. Your fingers itch to draw them if only to critique your work and find the answer to why he has such an effect on you. You're aware that you're staring, but you also can't find it in yourself to look away. Not when he's staring back at you so fondly. 

"What can I do to help you?" He asks. You feel like you could cry at the sincerity in his voice. You've talked to Ellie about her anxiety, so you know he has some practice in dealing with it, but he's acting like it's second nature. Like this is what he was meant to do. He bumps you again when you start messing with your purse. "Do you want this to be like at the bar? Do you want me to take you home and pretend like we were never here? Do you want me to go in there and crack some skulls? You say the word— any word— and I'll do it for you, darlin'." 

Darlin’. It's what he called you when you promised revenge for almost kissing you at the bar. Normally, you'd be against any form of pet name. Henry was not openly affectionate in that way, and you learned not to expect it from him. But here's Joel, dropping the term of endearment almost every time he's been alone with you. It could be that cowboy accent or his knee pressed against yours, but the nickname fills your chest with warmth and pushes away your anxiety. 

"Any word, huh?" You ask, and he chuckles. 

"My mama raised me not to make promises I didn't have every intention of followin' through on." He says. "What'll it be?"

"I think… I just need you to be there with me." 

"Then, that's what I'll do." 

"Okay." You mumble, and he smiles as a new wave of comfort washes over you. 

"Okay." He says.

"Okay." You take a deep breath and look at him in the driver's seat one more time. "Let's do this." Finally, you open the door and step down from his truck. He's quick to come to your side and offer you his arm before he can even finish locking the car. You smile, tuck your hand under his bicep, and let him keep you upright as you walk in. 

The gallery is full of people who look way more qualified than you— art critics, journalists, and other artists who can actually sell a piece. They barely glance at you and Joel when you breach the doorway, which you're silently grateful for. When a waiter walks by with champagne glasses, Joel quickly snatches two glasses from the tray and hands you one. 

"Here's to us." He says, and you cock an eyebrow at him. 

"Us?"

"Well, we're sure as hell not toastin' to that asshole, are we?" 

"I guess not," you laugh as you clink your glasses together. "To us." You each take a sip, and Joel tries to hide his reaction to the champagne, but you see right through it. "Not your speed?"

"Not at all." He groans as he chokes it down. 

"Don't worry, maverick, we'll get you something else later." You promise and tuck your hand back under his arm as you start walking through the gallery. 

A lot of his newer work resembles his work from college— normal portraits of things like fruits, beds, or people but with unexpected lines of colors lining them like they're vibrating. You even recognize some from your college days. You just never expected them to actually be displayed in this way, not even when you were dating and telling him what a good artist you thought he was. Some have vague titles like "$12" and "Jack," while others are untitled. You can see why it would get taken in by a gallery. There's a very clear skill in how he paints and manipulates everyday objects into something new. It would be impressive if it was interesting. 

Maybe you're just used to the way he paints. Maybe this is exactly what you expected of him. Maybe you thought he would've grown, if not in attitude than, at least, in skill. But it's clear that too many people told him good things about his work, and he saw nothing he needed to change or fix. Somehow, it makes you feel better, not worse, about your own art. 

"So, are these supposed to be good or bad?" Joel whispers to you as you get closer to the next section, and you laugh a little too loudly. The people around you give you nasty looks, but you can't find it in yourself to be sorry.

"Like I said at the museum, I can't tell you that, but…" you glance around to make sure nobody's listening to you. "As someone who saw him make a lot of art, this is definitely not his best."

"Okay, that's what I thought," he says before pointing at a specific part of the painting. "The shape is really weird right there, like he ran outta space or somethin'." You let go of his arm and step between him and the painting, smiling knowingly.

"Did you study for this?" You ask, and he nervously plays with the chain around his neck. 

"I may have… snuck a look at Ellie's notes." He admits sheepishly, and your eyes widen. 

"You were actin' like you were gonna have to rely on me this whole time! You don't need me to tell you what good art is!"

"Yeah, but I want you to." 

"Oh, whatever. C'mon, I wanna hear what else you think." You pretty much drag him to the next section of the gallery, but he's pliant and almost giddy at your hold on him. You take more time in the next part, and he ducks so his lips are near your ear to point out little things he notices. He said he was scared of being wrong in front of people "smarter than him," but all the observations he makes are valid and accurate. He lets you add your own analysis to his and watches you with a smile when you start talking with your hands excitedly. Suddenly, you're not nearly as miserable as you thought you would be, and you're even laughing together as you jump from painting to painting. 

"See, this isn't so bad!" You say as you move to the final part, but your smile and enthusiasm die when you step over the threshold. There, staring at you unashamedly is the painting Henry did of you when you were twenty and topless. He told you it was for his own artistic development, and you were more than happy to do it for him. You just never thought he would've kept it after all these years. Thank God your face isn't visible in the painting, but your rigid posture tells Joel everything he needs to know. He politely turns his back to the painting and steps between you and your likeness. 

"You wanna go?" He whispers at the same time someone calls your name. You take a deep breath and grab Joel's hand for support as you turn around and face Henry. His wavy blonde hair frames his face like it did in college but he's matured. His beard is a little more filled in, and he's gotten a little broader. Other than that, he's still the same person you met freshman year. 

"I'm so glad you could make it!" He says as he approaches. He doesn't try to hug you, and you don't move to let go of Joel's hand. "You look great. I mean, you always looked great, but you know what I meant," he says, looking over you. Only when Joel clears his throat does Henry even look at him. "Oh, sorry, man! We're old friends. I'm Henry." He holds his hand out for Joel to meet halfway, but he doesn't. You think it probably took fighting every single bit of southern hospitality in his veins to stop himself from shaking Henry's hand.

"'M Joel." He says, and Henry awkwardly drops his hand. 

"Nice to meet you, Joel. How are you enjoying the exhibition?" 

"'S alright." Is all Joel offers, not willing to gas up Henry's ego anymore, and you have to stifle a laugh at the expectant look on Henry's face. "Well, I think we were just goin'."

"Oh, so soon? You haven't even seen the last few pieces."

"Are those any better than the thirty identical ones I already saw?"

"Joel," you scold quietly, and his jaw flexes when you look at him.

"It's okay. Not everyone understands art enough to enjoy it." Henry says. 

"Oh, I understand everythin' just fine." You swear Joel would've punched him if he wasn't holding your hand so tight. You step in between them and raise your eyebrows at Joel. His shoulders are squared, and you can feel the molten anger rolling off him, but it softens just a bit when he meets your eyes. You squeeze him twice to let him know you're okay, and he nods. 

"Can you get me a refill on champagne? I think they're still walkin' around with some." You suggest. He gets the hint, but he obviously doesn't like it. He glances between you and Henry like he's trying to make a decision but folds when you mouth, "please," at him. 

"’Course," he says through gritted teeth. "Anythin' else I can get for you, baby?" Baby, that's a new one, you think. 

"No, I'm alright. Thanks, though." You say. Without thinking, you let your other hand rest on his jaw and kiss Joel's cheek. His jaw unclenches when your fingertips graze his stubble, and his shoulders relax when your lips make contact with his skin, but you know he's still upset because you're still upset. Joel smiles and walks away before you can get a good look at the blush creeping up his neck, and you're resigned to watching him disappear into the crowd. 

"He seems nice," Henry says the second Joel is out of earshot, and you have to resist the urge to laugh. 

"He is." 

"How'd you two meet?"

"Through work." You say, knowing that bringing up teaching will make his skin crawl. He sucks his teeth and nods, the champagne in his glass sloshing slightly.

"Ah," he says. "That's nice."

"Yeah," you agree. An awkward silence falls over the two of you quickly, and you're itching to find Joel in the sea of people. Henry notices your lack of attention on him.

"It's really good to see you," he says. "I feel like I haven't talked to you in forever."

"Yeah, that's usually what happens when you leave someone." 

"That's kinda why I invited you here tonight. I wanted to apologize for the way things ended," he acts brokenhearted and torn up about it, but he's years too late for the pity party he's expecting. "I should've talked to you about what was going on. We were just... becoming so different, and it felt like you were always talking to Andie or other people in the program, and there was no way to reach you."

"What are you talking about? I asked you multiple times if we were okay, and you said yes every time. I was talking to Andie so much because I needed someone who would understand me and be able to help." You say, and he waves his hand like he's swatting flies.

"Let's not do this. My therapist says it's not healthy to rehash the past like this. I just wanted to make amends and let you know I'm sorry for how you felt." It's not an apology. Not a real one, anyway. Jesus Christ, what did you ever see in him? Before you can even open your mouth to say something, he gestures to the gallery. "So, what do you think about all this? Crazy, right?"

"It's... something," you say. "Wish you would've given me a heads up about that one before I brought someone with me." You point in the direction of your half-naked body on the wall, and he gives you a confused look.

"I thought I did in the email." 

"Nope, I think I would've remembered if you said something about a half-naked painting of me from college being displayed," you shake your head. "Why do you even still have that? I thought you would've thrown it away or painted over it or something."

"Why would I do that? It's a good piece."

"I know it's good because it's my body. What's weird is you leaving me without a word one day and then keeping a naked picture of me all these years." 

"I didn't even think of it as your body. After a while, it was just a body," he says with no remorse, and you think you might hit him yourself. "Besides, you should take this as a compliment. Not many women get the opportunity to be depicted as art. It's a wonderful thing. You might even thank me one day when you're older." Finally, you see Joel walking toward you with a glass of champagne, and you take refuge in the fact that he's returning for you. "But, from what I can see, they've definitely stayed the same, so you probably don't have anything to worry about." He says like it's a secret or a compliment. You don't even wait for Joel to say or do anything. You just grab the wine from him and throw it in Henry's face. The people in the immediate vicinity gasp as you slap him and shove the empty glass into his hands. 

"Out of all the stupid things I imagined for myself when I was younger, thinking I would marry you was the stupidest," you spit. "Don't you ever try to fucking contact me again."

You feel like a fucking idiot. What did you expect? An apology? Repentance? Regret? He barely apologized when you were together. Why would he start now? God, was he always that bad? How could you have been so blind? How could you have shed so many tears over him? How could you have let yourself be so vulnerable with him and for so many years? It's a miracle he didn't call the cops and try to get the two of you arrested, even though Joel didn't do anything. You think, at least. The second you finished your sentence, you ran to the bathroom to cry and then snuck out through the back to wait outside Joel's truck. For all you know, Joel (rightfully) beat his ass and is on the run from artsy Austin hipsters. 

You put the lit cigarette back in your mouth and take a long drag, the familiar burning in your lungs a sick relief. You quit during The Dark Days because smoking was something he did, and you wanted to rid yourself of any reminder of his impact on your life. Apparently, at the same time you were scrubbing his fingerprints from your bones, he was in possession of and doing God knows what with the visual reminder of your vulnerability and love-sickness and acted like it was nothing. Like it was a compliment. Like it was just an object instead of your body. Andie would be pissed if she were here but especially if she saw you smoking after she braved all those shaky days and nights of nicotine patches and dried fruit and whatever other remedy recommended to help you quit smoking. You half-expect the same anger when you see Joel walking toward you. 

"Before you even start, I know I shouldn't, okay? It's a bad habit from when I was a kid, and I've mostly kicked it. I just... had a lapse. I'll be back on my best behavior tomorrow," you say as he stops in front of you. He doesn't look angry or upset. He just looks concerned and maybe even a little sad. Suddenly, you regret running away from him when all he probably wanted to do was help. You probably wouldn't have bummed a cigarette from a busboy if you let him. "Don't tell Ellie." You plead. His eyes flick over your face before he takes the cigarette from your fingers, puts the lipstick-stained filter in his own mouth, and inhales deeply, making the ember glow in the dark of the night. When he exhales, he blows the smoke away from you and lets the wind carry it in the opposite direction. A considerate smoker. You should've guessed.

"Don't tell Ellie," he says, handing the cigarette back to you. "Are you okay?"

You shake your head and take a long drag. It's quiet between you two for a while, the only sound being the cicadas and the distant chatter of the gallery. They're probably still talking about the psycho bitch who threw her wine in the artist's face. You don't really care. "I'm sorry for tonight. I don't know what I was expecting, and I sure as shit didn't know that painting was gonna be displayed. I swear, if I had any idea how bad this was gonna be, I wouldn't have invited you." 

"Why are you apologizin'? It's not your fault." 

"I shouldn't have roped you into this. I should've just said no, ignored the email, or came by myself. It's not fair that you got put in the middle of all this, especially when you were just trying to be nice. You're the parent of one of my students, and for you to see that side of me is just inappropriate. I just-" he stops your rambling by putting his hands on your shoulders and making you look at him, the cigarette falling to the pavement in the process. 

"Hey, hey. Stop. Take a breath." He says. Your head hurts from crying, and part of you wants to crawl into a hole and stay there until these feelings go away, but his eyes are gentle, and his hands are warm. You think he might be the only reason you're holding it together right now. "None of this is your fault, okay? Not the painting, not the conversation, none of it. We're both adults, and we can handle these things rationally. I'm not scarred for life just 'cause you lost your temper."

"But I-"

"No, buts. You told me the situation, and I didn't care. You warned me bout the art people, and I didn't care. You threw a drink in that asshole's face, and I didn't care," he says. "The only thing I care bout right now is makin' sure you're okay. Fuck everythin' else." You search his face for anything to tell you what he's telling you is going against his inner monologue but find none. He's completely and wholly concerned about you and nothing else. Not how fast he can get out of this. Not how this might look. Not what other people might think about him. Nothing. You take a deep breath and nod.

"Fuck everything else." You agree. 

"Now, you're gettin' the hang of it." He jokes, and you roll your eyes at him. He takes it in stride, his smile never fading as he looks down at you. You stop messing with the hem of your dress and let yourself relax for the first time all night.

"Thank you for being here, Joel. I really appreciate it."

"Not our best not-date, but definitely a memorable one." He says, and you laugh. You seem to realize how close you are at the same time because you both fall silent. His curls are beautifully draped over his face, and you can't stop watching his tiny expressions. An eye squint. A purse of the lips. A bite to the inside of his cheek. You want to blame your bad night or the emotions, but you can't. There's something more there. Something that's been brewing beneath the surface since he came into your classroom. Something that will kill you if you don't act on it.

You let your hands come up from your sides and tentatively brush against his waist as you stare at him, waiting for him to say something, but he doesn't. He just stares down at your lips, and the hands on your shoulders slowly move across your skin and up your collarbone— leaving goosebumps in his wake— until his hands are on your jaw and your pulse is thrumming against his palm. You pull him closer by his belt loops, and he doesn't hesitate to crowd your space, pushing you into the side of his truck with his body. His lips ghost over yours, just barely touching, and his nose bumps yours. 

"This is a bad idea," you breathe, tightening your hold on him. He nods and presses his forehead against yours. He's still close enough to breathe the same air as him, but the distance feels like miles. You lean forward a fraction as a test, and he doesn't move. If anything, he seems annoyed you didn't kiss him.

"D'you want to stop?" He asks, sounding just as breathless as you feel. You shake your head and swallow hard when he brushes the hair off your shoulder, and you can feel his heavy hand holding you. Your hands skate over his ribs, feeling muscles and a crazed heartbeat, and his jaw clenches. "Then you better do somethin' cause you've been drivin' me fuckin' crazy for weeks." 

Finally, you catch his lips with yours. He tastes like nicotine and smoke, and you know it's going to take a lot more than patches to get you to want to stop doing this. It's gentle and sweet, all relieved sighs and shy touches until you pull away for just a second to second-guess yourself or ask him something. You don't even start to form the words before he's back on you with more fervor. Suddenly, it's like he's everywhere but not nearly close enough. He nibbles at your bottom lip and tests a hand on your sternum, long fingers grazing your throat. The metal of the truck digs into your back, but you stop caring when a little moan slips from his lips when you pull him closer.

This is a bad idea. A horrible one. A bad habit you're gonna need to kick. 

But he might just be your favorite bad idea so far.

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha @cosmoscoffeee @shyminnie07 @beezusvreeland @eddiemunsonsbedroom @harriedandharassed @doodlebob-mp3 @ignorethisplz2004 @buckyispunk

[divine-donna]

b tier

honestly, only i can be watching a b horror movie about killer bees and go "i should write something for patrick with this in the background."

character: patrick zweig

context: uhhh...let's say late 2018/early 2019

being a publicist was exhausting.

not that you didn't like your job. no, you loved it. it was just that working for tashi duncan and art donaldson could be very tiring. there were a lot of things you had to do and organize especially for the foundation.

they were your friends, from way back in stanford. you would've froze hell over to make what they wanted happen.

but gradually, you've been worn down.

a series of bad relationships, namely. how many girls and guys and people you've dated who, in the end, just wanted to get closer to the tashi duncan, the art donaldson. the power couple.

the worst one was probably patrick zweig.

you didn't know if he actually liked you or if he just wanted you so he could somehow get in proximity to art and tashi.

or maybe he was trying to satiate his desire for both. after all, you had brief relationships with both tashi and art back in college. perhaps he only wanted you because tashi and art lingered on you. almost literally in a sense because they signed off your checks and you were lily's godparent.

you were very surprised when there was a knock on your door and you look at the time on your clock. 11:30pm. who was knocking on your door this late?

it certainly wasn't tashi or art. especially art. he's usually in bed by this time.

you don't bother to pause your movie. you've seen it millions of times before. you walk over to the front door of your apartment and peer into the peep hole.

"what the...!"

you unlock the deadbolt, but keep the chain lock in place, and open the door. "what the fuck do you want."

"good to see you too." patrick's got that smug grin on his face. but he looks worse for wear. his clothes are disheveled. there are dark circles beneath his eyes. he doesn't have that bright glow to his face. or at least, the last time you saw him.

"how did you get my address?"

"google."

"that's not very funny patrick."

"okay, okay." he puts his hands up in defense. you notice his bags on the ground behind him. "a friend of yours. jace?"

"jace? oh jace you!" you'd curse out your friend later. in all fairness, you never told jace about patrick. in fact, you didn't really talk about your love life with your friends. you kept it under wraps, especially since it's gone poorly.

"what do you want?" you already knew. but you wanted to hear it from his mouth.

"well...i'm in town. i thought we could reconnect." you notice that he's picking at his fingers. similar to how art did. even in adulthood after they were separated, they still mirrored each other's movements, had each other's habits.

"fuck off patrick. i'm not interested in being your mutual connection." you're ready to close the door.

"wait, wait!" he takes half a step forward, putting his hand on your door. he looks at you, his eyes soft. pleading.

patrick contemplates if he should just get on his knees and beg. he glances away for a second, taking in the clean look of the apartment building you lived in. his tongue licks his bottom lip and he rubs his face with his hand.

"i...i need a place to stay."

"look for some rando on tinder then."

"please. (y/n)." his voice is soft.

you hated that you had a soft spot for patrick zweig.

as much as you didn't like him, you missed the electricity of his kiss, his brash behavior, and the softness of his aftercare. he was surprisingly very good at it.

you also weren't one to turn someone away if they needed care.

patrick takes a step back when you close the door. but he hears you moving the chain lock and the door fully opens. "get inside."

"you're a lifesaver." he grabs his bags and steps into your apartment, removing his shoes as to not track dirt further into your home.

you lock the door once again. "you look like garbage. go take a shower."

patrick didn't like doing what he was told. but this was your home. "alright."

"and when was the last time you ate?" he takes too long to respond. "just shower."

"alright, alright."

when patrick emerges from the shower, he finds a pair of silk pajamas folded neatly in your bedroom. he makes sure he's completely dry and moisturized before putting on his underwear and the pajamas.

he walks out of the bedroom and his eyes first go to the tv. he lets out a small laugh seeing a slug bite a man. the movie quality was clearly bad.

and then there you are in the kitchen, making pancakes and a strawberry sauce to go with it. as well as two mugs with steam coming out of them.

"a homecooked meal? how generous."

"shut up. i was getting hungry." it was cute when you tried to brush him off.

he walks over and picks up the box. "trader joe's strawberries and creme pancake and waffle mix. with sweetened dried strawberry and white chocolatey chips." he sets the box down.

"it's pretty good, actually." you hand him one of the mugs. he takes in and breathes in the smell. it's lemony and sweet. "hope some citron tea is good with you."

"it's perfect, actually." he leans against the counter, taking a careful sip. "so what are you watching?"

"slugs. it's a movie from 1988."

"you've always liked bad horror movies."

"well...seems i have a taste for...b tier things."

"what's that supposed to mean?" he looks at you, watching the way you work.

"i don't think you need me to spell it out." you flip the pancake with ease before turning off the stove.

"think you've been spending too much time up art's ass."

"well if i wasn't up art's ass, then you wouldn't be here, would you? you'd probably be sleeping in your car right now. or crashing at some poor tinder date's place." you pour the sauce into a separate bowl.

he couldn't deny that. art and tashi put food on your table, a roof over your head, paid for your bills. you had no choice but to be up their asses.

the two of you eat in silence. patrick wants to say something, but your attention is more focused on the movie. somehow you're able to eat while watching two teenagers get eaten alive by slugs. complete with ooey gooey 80s special effects.

he does his best to help you clean up, but you swat his hand away when he tries. so he settles for just watching you clean up. you were always territorial in the kitchen, preferring to do things a certain way and keep things in a specific order. he could see just why you got along well with tashi and art. your discipline matched theirs.

and he had no discipline.

when you're done, you wash your hands then place the pod in the little compartment in the dishwasher, making sure it was closed all the way. you close the dishwasher and turned the dial to the second setting, hearing it lock into place.

"you'll be sleeping on the couch. i'll set things up after the movie is done." you say, walking over and sitting back down. you grab your blanket and lay it over your lap and legs.

patrick looks at how cozy you are. and for a second, he thinks about just how cozy life with you could be. money, cooked meals, a warm bed. a publicist that can get him back on track to greatness.

he sits down on the couch, leaning back into the cushions. he's close to you. you have no doubt that he sat there on purpose.

"so what is this movie even about?"

"slugs eating people, duh." your eyes don't leave the tv screen.

patrick notices the way you slightly lean forward during the scene. the man is eating dinner and he's got a raging headache. he manages to stop his nose from bleeding in the bathroom. then when he takes a sip of his drink, his nose bleeds again into the drink. he cries out, holding his head. and then his eyes pop. blood splatters everywhere. thin worms emerge and wriggle around from his socket. his body falls to the ground.

"i love this scene so much."

"really? i couldn't tell." he says sarcastically.

"it's a good scene." you lean back. "not that you would know. you have terrible taste in movies."

"hey, hey. do not insult my taste in movies. you're the one watching b tier horror movies. and you're the one who has a taste for the shittier things in life."

"yeah? like you."

patrick leans forward, nearly pressing you against the couch cushions. "that's not what i interpreted last time."

"last time was a moment of weakness." you look at him. "i was craving something fast and easy. that's what you are patrick. fast food."

his lips curl into a smirk.

was he getting off to that?

"and you can't help but come back for more~"

your eyes glance down at his lips. and even in baggy silk pajamas, he looked good.

unfortunately, patrick zweig was hot.

"go fuck yourself." you cup his face with both of your hands and slam your lips on his.

patrick kisses back with just as much fervor, gripping onto your waist and pulling you on top of him. he lays down on the couch, groaning when he feels you grind your crotch against his. "fuck!" he groans. you always knew how to turn him on.

your fingers trail down to start unbuttoning his shirt, revealing his chest. your hands feel his muscles. "i hate that you're so fucking hot." you groan as you roughly kiss down his neck and to his chest.

"yeah, yeah. you can't stand me. and yet." patrick's hands go to your ass and he digs his fingers into the plush skin. hard. you can't help but let out a moan at the sensation, shivers of pleasure running up your spine.

he turns his head to give you more access, his eyes landing on the tv. "you mind if we...uh, pause? or something?"

"what? don't wanna watch slugs eat people while we fuck? we've arguably had worse movies on in the background." your tongue darts out, gliding along the skin of his collarbone. patrick shivers beneath you.

"(y/n), please." he moans. "don't make me beg."

"what if i want to make you beg?" your hand trails down, rubbing him through his pants and boxers. he gasps, mouth wide open. "you're always so cute when you beg."

"s-shit! (y/n)!" he moans.

he moans so cutely that you can't help yourself.

"alright. fine." you grab the remote and pause the movie, tossing it back onto the coffee table. "now where were we?"

[ddollfface]

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐀𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗦𝗶𝗰𝗸!𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝘅 𝗙𝗲𝗺!𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

Trigger Warnings; bad writing, lovesick behavior, reader is called 'my girl' multiple times, reader is described as more 'curvy' (in LoveSick!Bimbo's specifically), fluffy, nothing too bad. If I missed anything, then please let me know ♡ Hey, I'm sorry I've been so absent recently, but that's just because of personal issues. And I'd also like to say that I'm not going to be the most active writer on the app, sooo um sorry 'bout that. I'm just not very motivated to really do anything, so yeah. I hope ya'll enjoy :)))

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𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙎𝙞𝙘𝙠!𝘼𝙩𝙝𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙚

All of the Above. Any way he can show you affection, he will. Nothing is holding him back from hugging you, kissing you, or holding your hand. He has no fear. I mean, what are you going to do? Push him away? Yeah, right. And this is when his ego gets in the way. He can't comprehend why you wouldn't want to touch him, besides, he wants to touch you! He wants to love you, hold you, and protect you! Why wouldn't you want that?

He also enjoys buying you things. Whether it be a fancy dress, some makeup, paint, hell, it can even be a football or something! He doesn't judge (though he'd prefer you to be pliant, little you, someone he can protect). If you need something, whether it be for classes, a hobby, or anything of the sort, he'll pay for it! First date? Nope, don't even reach into your bag; he's got you! Want a coffee/tea/etc.? Babe, I better not see your card out right now. Who do you think I am? A bum? I take care of my girl.

He likes spending time with you, too. You're practically his best friend, after all! He likes to bring you to his practices, and games, wanting you to watch him. The majority of the time, whenever you're there, he'll purposefully show off, wanting you to know that he's husband material! He can protect you and your future children, don't worry! Just let him take care of you!

But he'll also come to any events you're a part of. Say you do theater, he's coming to every performance, the same if you do any performing art. If you do a sport (he'd be ecstatic btw), then he's coming to your practices, teaching different tips and tricks, and most importantly, he's giving you a "good luck kiss" (as he likes to call them). And if you're an artist or some sort, then he'll offer to be a model for you. He's not afraid to strip if it's for you. No matter how far you two are in the relationship, there's no hesitation in his voice when he looks at you, snarkily saying, C'mon sweets, paint me like I'm one of your French girls, yeah?

His affection doesn't stop there. I've dabbled in this concept before, but LoveSick!Athlete also loves to call you nicknames, and they're never-ending. He'll think of a new one for you every day! Honestly, it's interesting to see what he'll think of next. He has a wide variety and they span from how pretty you are, to your ass, and back to your sweet personality!

𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙎𝙞𝙘𝙠!𝙋𝙤𝙚𝙩

Gift Giving. LoveSick!Poet is far too nervous to talk to you. He'd shit himself if he ever called you something sweet like 'baby' or 'sweetheart', he thinks that his heart would implode. That's far too much for him. You're too much for him, too good to him, so he resorts to giving, giving, giving. He'll sneak you little poems he made about you, all flustered when you compliment his writing, how good he is. He'll get you a bouquet of flowers, all purple lilacs. LoveSick!Poet will go down to the nearest bakery, your favorite bakery, and leave you a small box of conchas, a sticky note stuck to the top of the box. It read 'I love your dress today, it looks beautiful on you :)'. He's so sweet, isn't he?

Quality Time. Similar to gift giving, it's a way for him to be affectionate without facing you. LoveSick!Poet doesn't have the best image of himself, finding your relationship with him to be a miracle, something to be worshiped, and admired. You want to go to the mall? Okay, he's on his way. Want to go out to eat? Where? When? He'll be there, but bare with him. He's not the most well-off man in New York, money's tight, right? And don't get him wrong, he feels bad. He'll constantly tell you so, going on about how he really wants to take care of you. And I'm sorry that I can't take you to the East Side, and we're stuck at the small cafe... I want to treat you, you really deserve the best, d-darling...

He just enjoys your presence overall, so any time he spends with you is a good time for him. LoveSick!Poet doesn't mind just sitting in silence, watching you do what you love. If you work at a cafe, restaurant, or anything of the sort, he'll show up to your work and just watch you do your thing. Depending on how you take his constant staring, he'll ask you for your number or how you're doing. He'll order something and have some, albeit awkward, small talk with you, wanting to know that you're doing well.

𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙎𝙞𝙘𝙠!𝘽𝙞𝙢𝙗𝙤

Physical Affection. LoveSick!Bimbo is very, very, very affectionate with most people, but it's doubled whenever she's around you. Honestly, she can't help herself. She has to be touching you at some point. She just finds you to be so adorable! She wants to show her appreciation for you and your body! Of course, she'll always let you cop a feel, if you want.

She wants to have a hand on your thigh, intertwine your fingers, and even hug you. She'll always have her chest pressed against your arm, not matter you height. And believe me, she's a tall girl, but she doesn't seem to mind the stares you get from men and some women.

Verbal Affection. Not only is she physically affectionate, but she's also very sweet with her words. No matter what time of day it is, or where she is, she'll always be calling you some sweet name. She likes to compliment you and your body, making sure you're never feeling insecure. After all, she can't have her darling feeling bad about themselves when they look like that! You're always beautiful and she'll make sure you know it. She can't help but let compliments slip out, saying how your body is just so perfect! You're literally like my missing puzzle piece, babes! Like what would I do without ya' curves!!

𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙎𝙞𝙘𝙠!𝙁𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙

Verbal Affection. Now, she's not complimenting you constantly (like LoveSick!Athlete and LoveSick!Bimbo), but she does give you affirmations. If you did well on a test, then she'll tell you how you're so smart. I'm just so lucky I got stuck with a sweet girl like you. You make me so proud.

She'll never hold back saying 'I love you', nope, never. She's very caring in that sense, seeing as you've been friends for so long. She knows what you like, after watching you and your exes interact. LoveSick!Friend isn't afraid to pat your head and kiss you on the cheek, but it's not her go-to, y'know? So she always falls back on giving you assurance, that way you'll never doubt yourself. You're doing so great, babe. Just keep doing what you're doing, I'm here to help.

Acts of Service. LoveSick!Friend washes the dishes, does the laundry, and cooks the dinners. If you're ever feeling under the weather, then she'll become your little servant, always at your beck and call. She just wants you to be taken care of. She wants you to know that she's always going to be there for you, and you don't need some man to be here. All you need is her, so you should just delete that dating app, no?

𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙎𝙞𝙘𝙠!𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙩

Verbal Affection. LoveSick!Artist is sweet with his words, knowing just what to say to get you all flustered and embarrassed. His voice is deep, soft, and comforting. He'll give you reassurance and soft words, speaking softly to you. He doesn't call you pet names too often, though he'll sometimes pull out 'sweets' or 'baby' if he's feeling extra nice that day. Most of the time, he prefers to use your name, finding it to be comforting. He likes your name, pleased by how the syllables roll off his tongue. It's the name for you, he prefers that you use his given name, instead of 'babe' or 'bubba'. It makes him feel closer to you and he'll tell you that. He'll go on about how, y'know, you're voice is real sweet, just prefer hearin' ya' say my name all the time. Makes a guy all giddy inside.

Gift giving. He likes to draw you, a lot. Whenever you pop into his mind, which is every waking second, he'll draw you, having to express his thoughts somehow. Sometimes, he'll have you right in front of him, modeling for him.

He likes to give you these drawings, well, only the PG ones. After all, he doesn't think you'd be able to handle it, getting too flustered and overwhelmed by how detailed he can get. But that's not the point, the point is that he likes to draw you, and for you. He draws the world around him and then gives it to you, wanting to share his talent with you. And you're always excited about it, enjoying your boy/friend's (depending on the timeline) talent.

Quality Time. Listen, LoveSick!Artist is very monotone, preferring to be calm, and by himself. He doesn't like parties, being in big groups, or loud music. He just wants to be with his close friends, you. It doesn't have to be a shared activity, where the two of you are talking. Actually, he prefers to do his own thing, and you do yours, just the both of you enjoying each other's presence. He'll be painting and you'll be doing homework, cleaning, reading, writing, whatever. He doesn't care too much.

It's like that one friend, the one where you can not talk for months and months, but when you two reunite, you're acting as if nothing changed. That's exactly how he treats your relationship. He doesn't need to be with you 24/7, if anything, he prefers to have some alone time.

Now, for this last part, I'm not too sure what category this would be under, but LoveSick!Artist is quite built, meaning he works out a lot. He's very strong. And he gives off scary dog privileges, much to your content. He enjoys protecting you, holding you close, and making sure no man is giving you any funny looks.

I think that may be described as physical affection, but it still doesn't feel right to me. LoveSick!Artist isn't necessarily the most touchy person, seeing as he likes to keep to himself, but that won't stop him from getting possessive. He's very, very, very aggressive towards other men, especially when you're involved. He already doesn't trust men, but when he sees the way they look at you, it causes him to spiral. Out of all my LoveSick!Characters, I think that LoveSick!Artist is the most likely to kill in your name. C'mon don't be like that, did ya' see how he was looking at you? Like a piece of meat, is what.

[herpartnerintime]

Max's IEP - Inattentive ADHD and Social anxiety

I wanted to talk about Max's IEP, the possibility of inattentive ADHD and Max's social anxiety. In the files in Principal Wells office we discover Max's student file and discover she has an IEP (Individualized Education Program) given to students who may need extra help and support in school.

We learn here that Max is considered a quiet attentive student. We learn her GPA fluctuates and she has acknowledged she should be doing better. Her teachers back up her quiet intelligence but she gets some complaints about being to nervous or nosey. Some would like her to speak up in class and be more assertive, others want her to be less so. I've been thinking a lot about this and what Max may have struggled with to get her an IEP. I've seen many fans discuss this and had many discussions myself. Some fans may think she has a learning disability that has her needing extra help. Some have thought autism. Some have considered ADHD - the inattentive type. I've been thinking a lot about this myself after beginning to realize I may have the inattentive type of ADHD, though I am not yet officially diagnosed, learning about this has also made me notice some similarities in Max's behavior.

Inattentive ADHD is very common in girls but underdiagnosed. I started noticing Max has signs of it. Her student file describes her as attentive, but people with inattentive adhd can seem attentive even if there mind is elsewhere. Inattentive ADHD is 'a subtype of attention deficit hyperactivity disorder that often manifests as limited attention span, distractibility, forgetfulness, or procrastination.' "Sidetracked by external or unimportant stimuli: No matter how much you want to tune into a task, it’s common to get sidetracked by a thought, topic, or event that suddenly demands your internal attention. For instance, you might be attending a show by your favorite comedian and find yourself zoning out for 5 minutes to think about what pandas eat."

"Inattentive adults are dreamers, doodling on their notes during a big meeting or studying a fly on the wall while their spouses are asking about bills. Often nicknamed “space cadets” or written off as flaky, many people misinterpret their lack of focus as lack of interest — and can get frustrated by their inability to pay attention, especially when it’s important that they do so."

We see this happening the very first episode. Though granted, Max is in a bit of shock from her storm dream. But as Jefferson talks Max can get distracted looking at her bag, at her journal, her pencil case, she can look at everything on her desk and lose herself in thought. She even ends up taking a selfie as Jefferson is talking!

"I haven't kept up with my journal as much as I should." "Look at this crap! How can I show this to Mr. Jefferson? I can hear the class laughing at me now." "I can't believe I still have this pencil case. I should upgrade to the 21st century. But I like it old school." "My little camera bag is battered, but still kicking."  "I do love my analog camera. I should take a quick picture now." After selfie she can look at camera as Jefferson is talking: "Sorry, Max. No more selfies right now." In Jefferson's class in episode 1 we can see Max also has a bunch of doodles along with her notes, suggesting she can lose focus.

In Jefferson's class, we see in episode 2 Max has paper out on her desk, which you can choose to doodle on, becoming unfocused on what he is saying.

When Chloe texts Max, Max takes out her phone to look, getting called out by Jefferson to put her phone away.

Given everything going on in Max's life from her storm dream to her super powers it makes sense Max would be extra distracted in class, but Jefferson makes comments that also suggest this is a pattern with Max.

Jefferson says to Max in the Dark Room Stupid bitch! You just don't listen, do you? (threateningly) In fact, you never did hear much in my class; if you had, you might have seen all this coming.

When Max returns to the dark room in episode 5 after having escaped and she doesn't hear Jefferson, he says

Jefferson: Jesus. It's like you're back in my class. You're still...spacing...out. It might be cool if you took one of your patented selfies now... This suggests Max's struggle to focus in class wasn't just because of everything happening with her powers and Chloe.

When Jefferson asks her his question in class her responses are Max: I did know! ...But I kinda forgot.

Max: You're asking me? Let me think... Um... This fits how those with inattentive ADHD can be very forgetful. Homework is kicking my ass. I bet the teachers grade harder just to stop you from feeling special. I have an assload of homework already. So much bullshit. At least give us noobs a day to acclimate. Like a dork I couldn't figure out what to wear, so I chose what was on the floor. I'm no good with names and faces right away, but I picked up some names like KateBrookeTaylorAlyssa... Max seems pretty overwhelmed by her school life too. She can also be disorganized, writing about choosing an outfit off the floor, likely because she got distracted and didn't put her clothes away. She has trouble remembering the names of her classmates. I relate to all of this!

Even Max's classmates have noticed... Juliet: Uh, why do you care? Why are you even asking me? You never talk, just zone out with your camera.

Max: That's why I'm talking to you now.

Juliet: What's my last name?

Max: Juliet...Juliet...Olson. (you have 4 options)

Juliet: That was truly sad. Thanks for your concern, "Max Caulfield". By the way, Juliet Watson.

We see that Max is known to be spacey, forgetful, distracted easily in class and often finds her mind drifting to other things, or getting distracted by her journal or other items around her. Max even displayed doodling behavior in childhood too. When she and Chloe were kids, this was left on Chloe's homework Great job as always Chloe. Now PLEASE try to pay attention in class instead of drawing pictures with Maxine. Max's thoughts: Chloe and I were doing a lot of drawing in Ms. Shelley's class.

We know from Max doodling in class she does this even without Chloe around as a distraction. When Max looks at Chloe's report card, Max thinks, "As usual, Chloe's grades are better than mine. I still kick her butt in PE, though." I wonder if perhaps for Max, who was the inattentive adhd type and could get restless, if PE was good for her focus since it involved getting up and moving around. Max having inattentive ADHD might explain why she struggled in school and wasn't able to go to a school like Blackwell Academy like Chloe for grade nine but was able to for grade twelve by getting the extra help needed in Seattle to be able to make the grades for Blackwell.

Max even procrastinates for her favourite subject!

The winner gets a trip to San Francisco and lots of publicity. He wants just one photograph from each student. This is exactly why I wanted to come to Blackwell and of course I'm scared shitless to enter. At least I have a couple weeks before the deadline in October. So I have plenty of time to stress and procrastinate. Sigh.

Max having inattentive ADHD along with social anxiety could even help understand further why she was ignoring Chloe. Max was in shock over William's death and she didn't know how to be there for her friend, with the inattentive ADHD also playing a role perhaps in Max forgetting to say, respond to Chloe's texts in Before the Storm or just remembering to text which created this cycle of guilt where she kept putting it off and forgetting as she let herself get distracted by other things and then would remember and be eaten alive by guilt and put it off. I know myself I can forget about texts sent to me so easily as my mind finds other things to focus on. It's especially easy to forget the world when you hyper focus on other things, and people with inattentive adhd can have intense hyper focus on things that interest them. "Hyperfocus, a common — but confusing — ADHD symptom, is the ability hyper fixate on an interesting project or activity for hours at a time. It is the opposite of distractibility, and it is common among both children and adults with attention deficit hyperactivity disorder." "But whatever holds the attention, the result is the same: Unless something or someone interrupts, hours drift by as important tasks, and relationships fall by the wayside." It is also interesting that Max's phone has no texts from her Seattle friends, and she only writes about them once, as her mind becomes consumed by Blackwell life. Once she reconnects with Chloe, she no longer struggles with communication and is even very fast answering her texts. She can take time to answer others though! Max seems to display a lot of behaviors of inattentive adhd but ultimately with the game only taking place October 7-11 and Farewell in a day it is hard to really know for sure. But she does display all of the signs in different ways throughout the game and other characters remarks suggest it is a pattern for her. Social Anxiety? Hannah Telle, who I highly enjoy hearing her thoughts on Max on, has shared some thought on Max's social anxiety and IEP.

Hannah Telle: I think that Max was in shock over William's death and the fact that she was leaving her life in Arcadia Bay to start all over at such a difficult age. I also think she was afraid to reach out because she wouldn't know the right thing to say and thought Chloe would be mad at her for leaving and not want to talk to her. I think both girls eventually assumed the other didn't want to talk to them and then they fell apart. Also, I'm sure Max was overwhelmed with being all alone in a big city when she suffers from social anxiety. Maybe she just withdrew even further and wasn't really talking to anyone. I can definitely relate to that.

Hannah Telle talking about Max: Her timidness, her introvertedness, her desire to NOT be so introverted and not be so timid but she doesn't even really know at the beginning of the game that she needs or wants that, she can't even imagine what life would be like on the other side of her own withdrawn boundaries and just sometimes I feel like Max might feel like she's got a glass wall between her and everyone else around her and like when she's with Chloe maybe she doesn't feel that wall, that glass wall so strongly and I really relate to that it's like some kind of psychological thing that I experience feeling like I'm separated from the other person I'm talking with unless it's like a very certain person

On Max's IEP

Hannah Telle: I was never made aware of any inside information about Max's Individualized Education Program but I do have some thoughts. I do think that Max is highly intelligent and overly self-aware. I find her extremely introverted nature at the start of the game to be a bit concerning. I think maybe Max struggles with some kind of issue where she is incapable of believing in herself or using her voice. I definitely can relate to that. I think her sudden onset of power interferes with this problem and ultimately solves it for her without the need for therapy or medication because it forces her to come out of her shell and speak up. When Chloe asks Max what she likes to do now that she's all grown Max, Max can say "Not much. You know me. I like to observe the world more than participate." After rewinding, Max can share this.

Max: I take photos. Of me, the world, everything. It may sound sad, but I have a blast. Chloe: It doesn't sound that sad. Max: I'm happiest when I've got a great image in my lens. I'm not lonely, not afraid... When Max is not taking photos she feels lonely and afraid. She has been without her best friend for five years and seems to have only made two friends (Fernando and Kristen and going from texts she hasn't kept in touch) Max even can say to Chloe of Seattle, "It was cool, but...I felt kinda lonely, out of my league." Max struggled in Seattle.

Max also tries to explain to Chloe why she didn't keep in touch.

Max: I wanted to. I was just so tripped out over leaving Arcadia... Chloe: Oh, please. I'm sure your phone and laptop were frozen in time. Max: You're merciless.

Max: Give me a break. I was going through changes...like you. Chloe: I guess those changes included dumping me from your life. Max: That's not true, Chloe. Chloe: Bullshit. You thought you'd hook up with all these art pricks in Seattle. Didn't happen, though. Max: You're merciless.

Max: I'm sorry. I know things were tough on you when I left. Chloe: How do you know? You weren't even here. Max: I didn't order my parents to move specifically to fuck you over, Chloe. Chloe: You've been at Blackwell for almost a month without letting me know. 'Nuff said.

Max: I just wanted to settle in first and not be such a shy cliché geek. I totally would have contacted you...

I think Max isn't good at handling confrontation. She doesn't know how to explain to Chloe why she wasn't there, not sure how to put to words why she couldn't reach out. She also struggles with the social anxiety of Chloe seeing she hasn't changed much (Shy cliche geek) and is also using that embarrassed feeling to avoid her. She also doesn't know how to explain why she didn't reach out after a month. Max's social anxiety and fears about Chloe being mad at her were making her put it off. She thinks this looking at a photo of them. "...Max and Chloe: Best Friends Forever. Who even says that anymore? I'm going to have to call Chloe eventually and find out what she'll say. The longer I wait, the worse it'll be. Idiot." Her inattentive ADHD likely didn't help, finding it all to easy to lose herself in distractions.

Max apologizes to Chloe, but she never gives her an explanation in the game because Max didn't know how to explain herself. Then there’s Chloe Price. What do you say to your best friend after five years of silence? After finding out you saved her life in a bathroom? NOTHING. I feel so lame for not staying in touch… or even text. I have no idea how to process seeing Chloe like this again. For one thing, she looks so similar but so different… She’s all grown up now, but it doesn’t seem like she’s only one year older than me. Max also admits I feel bad because I wonder if I was happy to move away just to avoid the grief…

In Farewell, Max even worries about how often she should write. "It might be actually really fun to write Chloe letters after I move. Is writing once a week to often? Will I run out of things to say?" She sounds very worried at that last part. Hearing Max think that might feel strange, with how close Chloe and her are and how easy it is for them to talk now, but Max's social anxiety was making her over think and worry about how much she should write or fear she wouldn't know what to say. Many with social anxiety struggle with communication long distance when they can't see the person. Max also shares this fear to Chloe. Max: I'm so worried that I won't be okay without you.

Chloe: Hey, stop that. Of course you'll be okay.

Chloe: We're Max and Chloe, remember? We're always together, even when we're not.

Max: That's true.

Chloe: Cool. Let's find something fun to do.

Given she ends up lonely in Seattle and also tells Chloe something that suggests when she's not taking photos she is lonely and afraid, I don't think she was okay without Chloe, just like she feared. She was missing her best friend but unable to fight her social anxiety to reach back out, even after she returned. She didn't make many friends because of her social anxiety, and her inattentive adhd kept her to distracted to face anything. Max also shows her social anxiety in how long she waits to tell Chloe about moving. By the time she finally works up the courage to tell her after being a ball of anxiety, she's moving in 3 days. Max: Chloe?

Chloe: Max?

Max: I want to tell you...something.

Chloe sits on the couch next to her.

Chloe: Okay.

Max: I'm, um... My family's moving to Seattle really soon. Hey.

Chloe: In three days, right?

Max: What? You knew that?

Chloe: Our parents do talk, you know?

Max: But, they said I should be the one to tell you—

Chloe: They still told my parents. I guess Mom and Dad were trying to keep quiet, too, but they're bad at hiding anything. Don't look so worried Max, it's okay. (lightly shoves Max's shoulder) Come on, dorkmeister. It's not the end of the world.

Max: I should've just told you earlier. God, I feel so stupid. (She covers her face with her hands in anxiety)

Chloe: Max, I said it was okay.

Max: I was trying to tell you this morning, but—

Chloe: But I totally distracted you with the pirate tape! Success!

Max: Seriously?

Chloe: I didn't want this hanging over us all day.

Chloe: Plus I know you hate this kind of conversation, so...I just left it alone, you know?

Chloe takes Max's hand and pulls her off the couch and holds her hand.

Chloe: Come on, I want to spend every minute we have together having fun.

Max hasn't just been having these thoughts only this day, she's been anxious about telling Chloe for along time.

Max: (thinking) I've spent so much of my life here, every little corner is familiar. Comforting.

Max starts bouncing the ball against the drawing board.

Max: (thinking) These games we're playing...buried pirate treasure from our past selves.

Max: (thinking) Is this why I keep pushing off telling Chloe I'm leaving? Because I don't want to ruin this time together?

Max: (thinking) Is this all selfish of me? Why is this making me feel more guilty about leaving? (doesn't try to tell chloe) Max: (thinking) I guess now's my chance to tell Chloe I'm leaving. We might not be alone again once her parents get back.

Chloe: Hey, ready for something else? I've got a great plan for the rest of the afternoon.

Max: (thinking) Crap. I don't want to ruin the rest of the day.

Chloe: You're staying for dinner, right?

Max: (thinking) Would Chloe even want me to tell her?

"It's so hard to believe. This room, this house, this town... all in the past now. Or soon to be. Who even am I without Chloe? She's the one who's always starting things, pulling us into adventures. I can't imagine life without her. Maybe I haven't told her I'm leaving yet because I still can't believe it's real myself." "Chloe Price. My best friend. It's so weird being back in this attic after so long. I remember being terrified of this place. I think when you're a kid, you're only afraid of things that can hurt you. But when you get older, you become more afraid of hurting the people you care about. And spiders. Man, I'm gonna miss her."

[darkacademicvibes]

We Think Similar Thoughts

Part Two

Lonely!fem!reader x Lonely!Remus

CW: sweet!Remus, swearing, mentions of The Prank, arguments, blood, kinda protective!reader, a hint of teasing!James, fighting, also a lot of mean!Remus...

☕︎︎

You never say you hate anything. It's the way you were raised, but Merlin's pride did you hate them.

You send yet another disappointed scowl at the three boys, and Remus can't help the warmth that spreads through his chest. It's been two months of getting to know you, and then once he was sure he could trust you (he was sure after you went on a rant about unfair rights for magical creatures which ended with you sending vicious glares to Malfoy for the rest of the day) he told you everything. He got quieter as he went on, despite your understanding behavior. As soon as he mentioned The Prank, you were ready to go to Azkaban. You were ready to use cruciatus curse on Sirius Black, and then stand in trial and declare proudly why you had done it.

As soon as he'd told you Sirius' excuse, his reasoning, you were ready to add murder to your charge.

You started staying with him in a room hidden behind the tapestry of Billigor the Jolly instead of your dorm, much to the anger of your older brother, who sent a strongly worded letter reminding you of the prank the marauders pulled on you last year, which you promptly ignored and left on top of your trunk, a mistake you don't intend to make again after you walked in on Remus staring at the floor with his head in his hands.

He spent the next three days apologizing and though it was unnecessary, it made you smile.

Remus' hand wraps gently around your wrist, and it sends tingles up your entire arm. "Stop glaring before your face freezes that way" he murmurs. You glare harder. "I'll live with it" you huff, and it makes him laugh. The sound has you turning to him with a small smile, which he returns as soon as he stops laughing.

"Don't look, but the boys are staring" Remus sighs. Sympathy curls along your shoulders, and you huff, standing up and making your way over to the marauders. Remus watches you walk, curious.

"Either stop staring or come sit with us" you state plainly, and Remus frowns from your table. Sirius moves to stand up and you point at him, "not you, Remus doesn't need you, he doesn't need anyone who uses his insecurities as some sort of sick personal gain" you snap before turning on James and Peter. "If you come sit with us, you cannot speak of what happened, you shut up and study, or you apologize and make normal conversation, like normal people. Talk about the weather for goodness sake" you make your way back to your table and Remus welcomes you back with a gentle smile.

"What was that about?" He murmurs as you both watch Sirius pack up James and Peters bags, Peter argues, but James allows it easily, tidying up his essay papers. "It's okay, Rem, just wait" James stands up and makes his way over, but Peter stays sitting with Sirius.

"Hey, can I sit?" Remus sends an unsure look your way when you smile and shuffle closer to Remus to make room for James. "Thanks, I'm James, it's nice to meet you" he introduces himself to you "officially" he adds. You nod, "y/n y/l/n, nice to meet you" Remus shuffles and his knee knocks yours gently. "Officially" you tack on jokingly, and his shoulders relax a little as he let's out a small laugh.

"Moon- uh, Remus?" Amber eyes meet hazel ones, and James smiles weakly. "I'm sorry, I know we shouldn't have forgiven Sirius so easily" he admits, and Remus' hand rests gently on your knee. "It's okay, Prongs, I know he's like a brother to you, especially when you told him you-" Remus cuts himself off, glancing at you before looking back at him. "Y'know" he finishes, and you frown before deciding not to ask. You didn't ask about Remus' scars or why he disappears once every month and turns up in the hospital wing the next morning and he told you in his own time.

James smiles sadly, "yeah" Remus sends you a greatful smile, and sadness prickles at your palms. You're glad Remus has one of his old friends back, but what if he gets them all back and then disappears? What if he gets his friends back and suddenly has no time for you anymore? As much as you hate it, doubt manages to lodge itself in between your ribs.

You continue your alchemy essay on the pidiflud potion, which forces the drinker to say whatever is on their mind, no matter what it is. Hungry? Announced. Insecure? Announced. Busy? Announced. Disgusted? Very much announced.

Remus stops talking to James for a moment, placing his hand on your back gently as his right hand points out a few mistakes, telling you how to fix them. "Thanks" you murmur distractedly, and Remus frowns, staring at you for a long moment.

Remus leans into you, mumbling into your ear, "you okay? You're real quiet" you pause for a moment, almost dropping your quill. "M'fine, Rem, just keep talking to James" you don't mean to sound bitter, but even you can tell that you sound hurt. Remus frowns before chuckling softly, his hand slipping further around your back to dig his fingers into your side. "You want my attention?" He asks teasingly, and you shrug, nodding a little.

"Want as much as I can have before you forget about me" you sigh quietly, and he frowns. "M'not gonna forget about you, y/n, you're my friend now, that's not gonna change just cause I have James again" he assures you, but something in you whispers the opposite, and you sigh. Remus shakes his head and pulls you into his side, resting his chin on your shoulder as he returns his focus on his herbology essay. James sends you a knowing smile as you relax into Remus' side, fixing the last mistake Remus pointed out to you before continuing your essay.

James's knee bumps yours and when you look up at him, he grins cheekily, glancing down and Remus' left hand, toying with the hem of your skirt with his arm wrapped around your back, you frown, confused. Sitting like this is pretty common for the two of you, it has been ever since you found a muggle book on love languages and found that yours is physical touch while Remus' is words of affirmation.

You shrug it off and turn back to your essay, feeling a little more reassured.

☕︎

You miss Remus.

It's been twelve days and seven hours since you managed to get James to sit with the two of you (but who's counting?), and a few days later, Sirius' encouragements convinced Peter to apologize to Remus as well and now both you and Sirius have been left behind. Remus tries making time for you, but he's trying to make up for two months of missed time with two of his best friends, you can't bring yourself to be mad about it, especially when he looks so happy, but he eats with them, walks to class with them, studies with them, and he's moved back into the dorm.

The most time you've spent together over the last two weeks was in alchemy when he sat beside you before being pulled away by professor Featherton, who paired Remus up with some Ravenclaw girl, and watching them laugh together makes your stomach twist.

"You okay?" You jump and turn to face the voice, frowning when Sirius Black stands in front of you, looking tired and miserable. You turn away and start packing up your things. "I'm fine" you mutter, sending one last longing glance at the way Remus leans closer to the Ravenclaw to read over her paragraph. You scoff when she shuffles closer than necessary to ask a question, and Sirius let's out a small laugh. Remus glances over just as Sirius helps you tidy up, frowning when he sees the way you pause before hesitantly allowing him to help you.

"Thanks for caring about Remus, I know it's one of the easiest things in the world, but I'm still glad he has you" Sirius admits as you finish packing your bag, handing you the last essay. You take it with a sigh, holding it close to your chest. "When he wants me, I'm here. Just like I am for everyone else" you smile sadly, and Remus tenses as he hears you. Did you really think you would have to write him first if you wanted to stay in contact? Did you actually believe he was like your other 'friends'? The thought makes bile rise in his throat.

It gets worse when he hears Sirius comfort you.

"I'm sure he's just catching up with the guys, I see the way he is with you, he really cares" Sirius smiles and steps back. "I know I'm not someone you wanna a be around, anyway, so I'll go. But if you ever need anything, feel free to ask. I owe you, even if it wasn't for anyone else" Remus stands up, making his way over to you and tossing an arm around your shoulders.

"Oi, bugger off, yeah? She doesn't want you around" Remus snaps, and you frown. "Remus, I know you're mad at him but he was just helping me out" you huff, pushing his arm off of your shoulders, as soon as his arm falls to his side, you regret it.

"I'm not defending him, but he was just trying to be nice," you add on, and Remus scowls, crossing his arms. "Yeah, bein' nice, that's how he gets girls into his bed just so he can ditch them after." Remus glares at his old friend, and Sirius looks away, ashamed.

"Remus!" You hiss, shocked at his words. The way he said it sounded like he was accusing you of something, and you almost flinched. "Pump and dump, right Pads?" The way Remus spits out the familiar nickname has Sirius clenching his jaw, both anger and guilt forcing their way down his throat.

"Y'know. One and done, love it and leave it, nut and bolt, hit it and quit it, smash and dash" Remus snaps, "whatever you call it, it's still Sirius' specialty, ain't that right, Black?" He asks. It's rhetorical, but Sirius nods once anyway, refusing to look at either of you.

"Remus!" You stare at the - usually - sweet boy, astounded, and disappointed. Remus turns to you, anger flaring in his amber eyes. "What? I'm just saying what we're all thinking. Sirius Black is a whore, nothing new about it" he snaps, and your jaw drops. "Anything to disappoint his family, not that he needs any help with that" Remus growls out.

Sirius delivers the first punch.

"Fuck you, Remus." Sirius snaps back. You gasp and take a step forwards. "Stop it, both of you!" You shout over their insults and threats. Remus steps towards Sirius and you place your hand on his chest to stop him, this is escalating too quickly for you to keep up.

Sirius gently pushes you back before Remus punches him in the stomach, ignoring the part of him saying it was because he touched you, Sirius staggers before punching Remus in the nose.

You try to grab Remus' arm as he stumbles, his eyes watering, but he pulls his arm out of your grip roughly, and it pushes you back.

You trip over your bag, and halfway down, you feel something, and then everything goes black as you briefly hear the two boys fighting.

☕︎

"-all your fault" someone snaps.

"I know, believe me, I know" another answers, voice cracking.

"If you'd just-"

"James, he knows! Get off his back, it was my fault, really"

"No, it wasn't, I pushed her. I should have noticed"

"No, I hit you first, she was trying to stop it, just blame me"

"Great fucking godric! It was both of your faults, now shut the hell up and get over here, she's waking up"

You huff and slowly, open your eyes. The stupid hospital wing ceiling stares back at you, reminding you of the familiar phantom pain the marauders caused so long ago.

Your head pounds and you close your eyes again. Someone takes your hand and you glance at them, pulling your hand out of Sirius Blacks. "What happened?" You sit up. Remus tries pushing you back down gently, but you swat away his hand and look at the four boys surrounding you. You decide to turn to Peter.

"Peter?" He nods and steps forwards, sitting on the edge of your hospital wing bed and explaining what happened when you hit your head.

"I'm so sorry" Sirius mumbles as you lift your hand to brush over the cut on your head, you wince at the pressure and James hands you a small mirror. You thank him and look into it. There's a thin cut along your temple, curling slightly, and surrounded by a harsh yellow and purple bruise. You sigh and place the mirror down, making to stand up. Sirius tries to stop you but you bat his hand away too.

"Quit it you two, I'm fine" you huff, standing easily, despite the pounding in your head. You knew getting between two people fighting was stupid, but you didn't want either of them getting hurt.

You glance at Remus and Sirius, noticing Sirius' bloody knuckles and black eye, and the blood staining Remus' shirt, some left over dried blood just under his nose, his own knuckles bruised to all hell.

"You idiots" you huff, rolling your eyes. "I swear on James' life, if you ever fight each other again I'll whack you both around the head." James sends you his best what-the-fuck-am-i-included-for look and you shrug silently, grabbing the familiar jumper off of the chair beside your bed, and pulling it on, wincing when it brushes your temple. Peter huffs and steps towards you, tipping your head up to look at him, and turning it to the side. "That's my work you're bein' so careless of" he huffs. You'd forgotten he offered to help Madam Pomfrey when she first arrived as the new healer.

"Sorry Pete" you sigh, looking up at the boy. He smiles down at you, his shaggy dark blonde hair starting to fall into his eyes. "You've not messed the tape up, but be careful, Remus said you don't want magical healing so I've tried it the muggle way, it might scar" you shrug as he let's go of your chin, stepping back. "I'll be all cool and tough, like Rem and Sirius" you grin. Sirius pauses, frowning, before glancing down and realizing what you mean. The nasty scar on his wrist his mother gave him the first time she ever use a certain unforgivable on him, he'd fallen into the dining table and shattered an old vase. He doesn't remember much after that.

"These two are friends again" James announces, clapping his hands awkwardly after a long moment of silence, and you scoff. "Men, smack each other silly and you'll be just fine again!" You state, your voice rising a little as you roll your eyes.

Peter shares a knowing grin with James. You certainly didn't need to know that Remus and Sirius both care for you, in different ways, and for different reasons, yes. But care is still care, no matter what kind.

"Yeah, you know us men, a good punch solves a bunch of problems" James snickers.

You send him a suspicious glance and he smiles innocently at you as Sirius and Remus share an awkward smile.

"Boys are so weird" you mutter, making your way past the four boys in question. They follow after you and you allow them, waving goodbye to Pomfrey as you pass by. The boys talk quietly, catching up and making silly jokes, making sure to include you, and warmth spreads through your stomach when James tosses an arm over your shoulder and asks you to hang out with them at breakfast tomorrow morning.

"I guess" you sigh dramatically. "But if anyone throws a punch I'm just gonna watch this time" you joke weakly, but the four boys laugh, and you can't help but grin.

"Y/n? Hey, can I talk to you?" You turn around, and the boys stop as well. "Oh! Hey Corey, " you smile at your alchemy partner. "Ask away." Corey grins and steps closer, glancing nervously at the four boys with you. "Will you go out with me this weekend?"

"The fuck did you just ask her?"

[gayofthefae]

i just rewatched the hopper threatening mike scene bc of your post and was reminded how we literally don't know what he said to mike??! (someone else pointed this out way back, i just forgot). but like! he says i'm going to talk and you're going to listen, and then they drive off, and we don't see the actual convo. i think all we know is what mike says later, that hopper said he's spending too much time with el. i'm curious how you think that whole convo went.

Such a good point and this one of those things I like "meant to think about later"

Yes "I am going to talk and you are going to listen". I of course don't think it was anything explicit that Mike feared but he had definitely had that switch to "convince him how bad I wanna be with El" by that point in the conversation. So I don't exactly know what the "boundary" was but at the time I remember interpreting it as "stop spending time with her indefinitely, I'll let you know when you can come back".

But that threatening energy definitely stayed and I don't know that he stopped feeling scared of Hopper catching onto him even if he knew that he hadn't yet. In a similar way to El accusing him of not loving her. He knew by the end that she was mad about his behavior but didn't know why he was doing it, just like Hopper, but that doesn't put him in any less risk of her finding out if she's seeking those answers.

I think the same is true for Hopper. I think the talk in the car was very "tomorrow, you will not come to the house, you will not call and talk on the phone all day, and you will do that the next day and the next and the next and some time after that we will see if I will-" as he said in that scene "-allow you to continue to date my daughter".

I think that whatever he said was a continuation of what we saw but not clearly convinced of Mike's "normalcy" of feelings towards El enough that Mike's obedience was not based in trying to prevent Hopper from wanting to dig any deeper into it (especially as a literal COP).

But yeah. I don't know what Hopper said but whatever it was, Mike still felt scared about being found out afterwards. Enough that he couldn't just do what he ABSOLUTELY did in season 1 episode 1 and just...defy Hopper for someone he loves.

Because as I stated in my recent post, Mike DOES love El. Which is why his avoidant behavior with her is so odd. I remember thinking on my first watch "why doesn't he just disobey Hopper?" And I was right. He was never that scared of Hopper, I mean, what could he have threatened that would scare Mike that much? It's not like Hopper threatened violence against him. He WAS scary and being yelled at is a valid fear and he has legal power but at the end of the day, it all comes back to the fact that Mike has directly disobeyed Hopper BEFORE. So why wouldn't he now?

Because there are stakes to what Hopper will do if he disobeys that weren't there last time. "He'll be mad and be motivated to do something based on that" is a valid general fear, but in character, his logic I feel would lean more towards that that is preventable, protectable, and reversible. What is he gonna do? Frame him? Like-

But do you know what can't be undone?

Say Mike defies Hopper and continues seeing El, openly or in secret. Say Hopper knows. Say Hopper continues to think Mike's behavior around El, which he continues to commit to spying on, is odd. Say his curiosity motivates him to think harder on it. Say he, a straight man, continues to say to himself "that's not how I act around women, nor is it how I acted around them as a teenager. It seems almost......PERFORMATIVE". Say he realizes. Say his protectiveness over his daughter drives him to tell her. His stress about the situation drives him to tell Joyce. He tells her in Melvald's, it's overheard. Say now the whole town knows. Say they have pitchforks. Say he's the next Eddie Munson.

Now the stakes are pretty fucking IRREVERSIBLY high, aren't they? Cats don't go back in bags.

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

I’m newer to tumblr but an Arcana Veteran so coming across your account is a blessing 😭 your hcs are really good and I look forward to your posts!! I had an idea that I never executed on my own and i thought I might as well share it, so here goes nothing 😋

How would the M6 react to MC changing something drastic about themselves?

To be more specific, say MC always had long hair, more of a coolheaded attitude, or were always quiet and polite. And then out of the blue they’re shutting everyone out, slowly erasing almost every trace of their presence and being off the radar for a few months.

The LIs are worried because not a single soul has seen them. And then they suddenly return, and it’s like a new person, but very obviously still themselves. Shorter hair or other physical differences, soft-spoken personality, etc. But they come back to the M6 regretfully, never saying what *did* happen.

Assuming what they had was some strive for change, depression, or something else, it may be hard to explain to their dearest, but they eventually will. All they want is to be home.

just a silly idea of mine ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ



The Arcana HCs: M6 when MC changes without them

~ thanks for the ask @vegaspng! Sorry it took me so long to get around to but here it is. I'm writing this to be similar to what it's like in the recovery stages of PTSD or chronic depression, because I live for that kind of bittersweet hope. To anyone experiencing ot hoping to experience this, best of luck! You're not alone! - brainrot ~

- a little backstory-

The Devil is defeated. Vesuvia is safe. And your loved ones are building a new life with you that promises to be better than anything you can remember. Which is why you have to leave.

You've learned so much about yourself, your past, even the body you have now, and you're not sure what to do with it yet. That aside, you took on responsibilities and accomplishments the likes of which no single person could reasonably hope to carry, and you pulled it off. You didn't have to do it alone either. But now that things are going back to normal, you're stuck drifting in your own brain because you have no idea what normal is supposed to be like.

Your beloved has been wonderful. They've shown more patience than you ever asked for, listening to you process for hours and doing their best to help. You've worked through who you were after being brought back from the dead, you've worked through who you became through your fight against the devil, but you still know nothing of who you started out as. Which means you're not sure who you're supposed to be now. And you don't want to build a new life without knowing who you're building it for.

So one fine morning, you pack a bag, arrange for your absence, and kiss your beloved goodbye with the promise to return.

The journey is difficult, but rewarding. You travel across realms both magical and human, collecting traces of your past and encountering moments of who you used to be. You don't recover all of your memories, but you get the important ones. You find out who you used to be. It's less than you thought, but it's more than you had, and it's enough to move forward. So you set your sights for home and return to Vesuvia.

Your loved one is overjoyed when you return. They have a little adjusting to do, you have some mannerisms you didn't used to and they can't predict your behavior in the same way. But they're quick to recognize that it's all still you. Slowly, they get to know all the pieces you're building yourself with and fall in love with each one. And as time goes on, you get to hear about the whole thing from their point of view as well. What was it like for them, when you left? And what does life look like now that you're back?

Julian

The hardest part of you leaving was trying not to take it as a rejection of his love for you

He knows in his head why you need to do this, hell, the reason he ended up in Vesuvia was because he needed his own journey of self discovery

He just has to fight off his own inner demons telling him that you're going to realize you're better off without him and not come back

Which, for someone who found the drive to keep his own life because it had you it, can be quite the struggle

And because he's actually quite intelligent, he recognizes that it's not good to stay dependent on you to be his sole purpose in life. That's not your responsibility to carry

So he keeps faith in your promise to return, and puts all of his energy into becoming a better man for you to come home to

He spends time with Portia, getting to know her as an adult and becoming the kind of brother she says she wants and not what he assumes she needs

He seeks out time with Nazali so he can continue his medical studies and get more mentoring

He reconnects with Nadia and puts his knowledge of public hygiene to use with her plans for Vesuvia

He even manages to build a healthy friendship with Asra (who also misses you) and resolve their past toxic situationship

It's not easy, but he wakes up every morning a little more ready to face the day

When you come home, he's over the moon. Nothing and nobody can replace the happiness you bring him

He notices your changes right away, but he's too relieved to know that you actually came back to focus on them

Once you're settled back in with him and it's more apparent, he has a raging battle of opinions in his head about whether he should ask you about it or wait

He ends up asking you extremely vague, open-ended questions just in case you want to talk about it, but not letting himself pry

As time passes, he gets to know more of who you are and you begin to tell him some of the things that happened on your trip

He's fascinated, asking questions whenever you're in the headspace to answer them and connecting dots with you

He's never had the zest for life that he does now. Every night that he goes to bed with you, he's already looking forward to what the next morning will bring

And the best part? So do you. The future has never so been so desirable as it is now

Asra

They completely understand where you are coming from. In fact, they were the one who suggested the trip

He didn't suggest you going by yourself though

In the end what they care about more than anything is your happiness and wellbeing. So they'll give you every piece of advice and connection and helpful item they have, and promise to watch the shop while you're gone

But oh, he misses you desperately

When they gave up half their heart, it was in the form of their ability to have connections with other people. You being in their life covers for that

The only person he had a strong connection with before you was Muriel. And when you died, he went into the darkest, most twisted headspace he'd ever been in and did things he couldn't later comprehend

Their decision to bring you back, and the way they did it, is something you two have talked about once or twice, but there isn't much else to do besides try to forgive them and make sure it doesn't happen again

But this time, you're not alone. Which means he isn't either

Every day for the next week, someone new drops by the shop at your request to check on them

First it's his parents. Then it's Nadia. Muriel. Julian. Portia. Selasi, the baker. Natiqa on her way through town. Even Lucio at one point, with an apology letter that took months to help him write

Every time they feel like packing up and taking off until you return, they remember their promise to stick it out for you

And slowly, he begins to stay for other people too. It doesn't hit him until one month in that for the first time in his life, he's a part of a community because he's wanted there and wants to be there, not because he's with you

You're still their anchor, but now they have ties apart from you that give them a semblance of home, family, and belonging

The moment you return he's dropping everything. He will maintain some form of physical contact with you for the next 48 hours

They're one of the only people who remembers you before the plague, and seeing glimpses of that in who you are now makes them so proud and happy for you

You don't have to tell him everything right away. Though he is going to apologize profusely for every time he left you for a long trip with nothing to do but watch the shop and wait for his return

For every piece and memory you're ready to talk about, they will give you their undivided attention and then lavish the new discovery with all the affection they have

Nadia

She's torn. On one hand, her greatest joy is providing for you, so seeing the way you have an unmet need and can't come to her to fix it is hard for her

On the other hand, she perfectly understands the need to get away from it all to find yourself

And she's perfectly aware of how dominant her personality can be. You having access to your own space is very important to her

So she'll make sure you have everything you need and offer every available resource to you, and let you go

It's hard at first. You had been the one to wake her from her sleep, you had been the one to bring back her faith in herself

So without you around, her old insecurities begin to resurface. She didn't grow up in Vesuvia. She wasn't even the active ruler until several months ago

There were literal demons serving as her courtiers and she didn't do anything about them until you called them out

How is she supposed to speak with confidence if she doesn't have you to back her up?

And that's when, slowly, people start to drop by, and she's finally ready to accept their support

First it's Portia. Then it's Asra. Even Muriel drops by briefly. Julian makes a couple of calls as well

And then, it's her sisters

First it's Natiqa, crashing her lonely dinners and making her laugh with her wisecracks

Then it's Nasmira, quietly sweet talking the more stubborn courtiers into compliance

One by one, and never more than two visitors in the palace at a time, each family member stops by, taking their cues from Nadia and being her backup

And little by little, every childhood memory that haunts her gains a new light

She still gets tired of them and feels stifled every now and then, but she doesn't feel alone any more

It soon becomes known that Vesuvia doesn't just have an incredible Countess, their Countess has an army of loving supporters

When you return, she takes the next few days off and trusts her support system to handle the city for a bit

She'll ask questions, but as soon as she senses hesitation she'll give you space

She sees all these new flashes of personality in you, and as much as her heart aches for your trials, it flutters as you become more yourself

She already knew you were a worthy companion, but as you share more and more she's left in awe of who you are

The world is not ready for the power couple you two are going to make

Muriel

He understood what you needed to do right away. Going on a trip in search of his roots was exactly what ended up saving him

And getting to know you in the process was a delightful bonus

But when he realizes you're going alone, he's undeniably hurt. He's not the type to be selfish, but you went with him on his journey. He was vulnerable with you and it brought you two together

So why don't you trust him the same way? Why won't you make space for him in your life the way he did for you?

It's tricky to answer, because he makes a fair point and because he's never asked you for anything like this before

You're eventually able to explain the difference, how your trip is about finding out who you are on your own terms, when everything you've gotten so far has been on somebody else's

It's still painful for him, but he'll agree and let you go. He's not afraid of being alone

Until, for the first time in his life, he gets bored and starts wondering if someone's going to come bother him

Which is completely new. He's never had that train of thought before in his life

The closest was when Asra stayed with him and he wouldn't know if they would be back late or not

But now the hut is almost too quiet. The bed is too big. The forest is too peaceful. The eggs are too bland

And so, after two weeks of trying and failing to fall into old habits, he goes into town, grumbling under his breath the whole way

The panic that Asra greets him with when he walks into your old shop is almost enough to make him turn around and leave

Muriel? In town? By himself? Without being summoned? The world must be ending!

When he's finally able to mumble something about just wanting to visit and pick up some spices, Asra shatters a teacup

He's never been the one to surprise them before. It's fun. He could get used to this

And so, visits to Vesuvia get more frequent. Usually to the shop. Often to the palace. Several times to the community theatre, without needing to hide in the rafters

He's so relieved when you get back. You can hold a conversation with other people much better than he can

He notices the changes immediately, but he doesn't address them at all. His only desire concerning you is to be your safe place

He's come to appreciate the beauty of human complexity, so seeing new layers like this in you is heartstopping

You never have to worry about opening up. If you do, he'll accept you. If you don't, he'll accept you. He just loves you for you

Portia

Not gonna lie, it triggered her a little

She knows how this goes. You get tired of your quaint little life, you go off on an adventure without her, and you leave her to rot where she can't reach or help you with letters full of empty apologies

The conversation you facilitate between her and Julian after that rant is one of the hardest things you've ever done, but it's worth it

After things have settled, she lets you leave and holds onto the hope that you'll be back

And while you're gone, she distracts herself with work. She's got boundless energy, she needs to put that to use so she can't think too much

And so begins the craziest three weeks of her life. From the moment she wakes up to the moment she falls asleep, she does nothing but work

Normally, you're her reason to take a break. You put her back in the main role of her own life so she can let her hair down and live the adventure she's destined for

But without you around, the only role she's used to playing is support. So that's what she does, to the point of completely forgetting about herself

It takes a burnout induced three day fever to make her pause. Especially when she begins to recover and sees the sheer number of worried faces in her cottage

Nadia's spending every free evening with her. Julian's sleeping over most nights. Mazelinka's covering the daytime with her mysteriously perfect soup and brandishing a wooden spoon to keep her in bed

It makes her realize two things. First, that while it looks different, she has her brother's tendency to take on the world's problems to avoid taking care of herself

And second, that you shouldn't have to be the solution to that

It's rough, but she learns self care. Not just an extra step in her skincare, but letting herself do something just for fun. Putting herself first

Learning to sit and do nothing without feeling guilty because nobody can make some kind of profit from it

When you get home though, it's like she can fully relax again. You give her an importance that she has to fight to hold onto otherwise

She has the hardest time giving you space. All the changes you've made are so exciting to her, she wants to hear all about your adventures and growth!

You'll have to tell her plainly that you're not ready to talk about it right away, and she'll be very understanding even if it's hard

Every time you open up, she'll hang on your every word. You two are the main characters in her story, and she can't wait for the plot to develop with you by her side

Lucio

He doesn't make it easy for you to leave

He doesn't mind you going on a trip! Trips are fun! And even when they're serious and scary, like what he had to do with you in the Arcana's realms, they're always better with a loved one!

So why are you trying to go without him? Who's going to protect you?!

And equally important, who's going to be with him?!

He's thoughtless sometimes, but he's not dumb. He knows he's a better man because of you

And he also knows that he's not perfect. Deep down under all that bluster and ego, he's still a kid who never learned to love

You helped him with that. You unraveled every tangled oopsie with him, you didn't flinch when you saw the worst of him, and then you picked up his forgotten heart and filled it up with love

So why else would you be leaving except because you finally realized that he's not worthy of you?

You're able to explain it to some extent. You need to go on a journey similar to his. Only you need to do this by yourself because it isn't about fixing oopsies, it's about finding out who you used to be

He'll let you go because it's what's best for you. And he believes you when you say you'll come back. But what he can't bring himself to tell you is how afraid he is that who you used to be won't be able to love him

When you kiss him goodbye, he resigns himself to it being the last he'll ever get

At first he sulks. He crashes people's parties and picks fights with every bandit he encounters

But when he has the option to get blackout drunk? Take all the goods from the bandits for himself on top of the bounty money?

He can't

You taught him the importance of taking responsibility for his actions. Well, you made him a good man. So you're going to have to take responsibility for that and give him the chance to prove himself worthy of you

Which he does. He wakes up early. He moderates his drinks. He does the jobs he finds. He saves the money he earns

When you get back and fling your arms around him, his knees buckle from relief

He can tell you've changed, but it's okay if you don't want to talk about it. He can tell you all the ways he's changed instead!

If you were worried about his reactions when you do open up, you quickly realize you don't have to be

He doesn't expect you to be perfect. All he wants is for you to be you, for you to be happy, and for him to be the one you choose to do that with

[imkylotrash]

Complex

Pairing: Bill Weasley x reader

Request: When he was first scratched, he was super bummed and didn't know how to get through it and acted like an asshole to everybody, so Remus introduces him to a former student who had a similar experience ( so has minimum wolf qualifies ) and she is able to get him off his ass & help him through what he’s going through. She also happens to be a curse breaker like he is. Anonymous

Tagging: @bitchwhytho​ @music-of-melody​ @shadowhuntyi​ @avada-kedavra-bitch-187​ @canthebest1​ Let me know if you want to be added or removed. 

His arms engulf you in a warm hug the second you step off your broom. Attempting to hide your wince, you burrow your face into his shoulder but he knows you well enough to sense when you're in pain. Of course, he's also known you for almost 15 years at this point.

"What happened?" he asks, his lips stretching into thin lines. He doesn't exactly like the fact that you've now officially received the title of curse-breaker.

"Manticore. I've never heard of anyone being able to use them as guards." Oh, if looks could kill. Remus Lupin has always had a bit of a soft spot for you. Especially after you were attacked by a werewolf. The scars of four claws ran down your back, but you never changed. The moon made you hungry for red meat but you'd managed to walk away without the curse of lycanthropy.

"I thought they'd gone extinct," he manages to say.

"Definitely not. They're rare, but not gone." With a flick of the wrist, you have your baggage floating behind you as you head for the door.

"There's a friend here I'd like for you to meet." You sigh deeply. It's been a long journey, you reek of sweat and dirt, and you're trying very hard to disguise your limping. The last thing you need is to be introduced to someone new. But you also know what Remus went through not too long ago. Even you felt the pain when it was announced to the world that the famous Albus Dumbledore had died.

"Can't wait," you smile despite being close to collapsing from pure exhaustion. However, it turns out that no introduction is needed as you enter your living room. Bill Weasley has quite the reputation among your circles. The thing you're not expecting is the scars down his face. All of a sudden, your back is burning.

"Merlin's beard," you whisper as Remus comes up behind you.

"Bill, I'd like you to meet Y/N." You know why he wants you to meet. You recognize the look in Bill's eyes. It's the look of defeat - of fear. He mustn't have had his first full moon yet.

"I'd shake your hand but I'm fairly certain I need about five showers before I'm fit to even sit on the couch," you joke but he doesn't respond. In fact, he just huffs a little and remains seated. No signal is needed to get Remus to follow you into the kitchen.

"What is this? Werewolf trauma 101?"

"His family is worried. I thought it might benefit him to see that it isn't the end of the world."

"Is that how you felt?" It's a low blow. There's a massive difference between what you and Remus went through. He has to fear the full moon each month, while you sleep soundly in your bed. But you're tired, and you're struggling with your own memories.

"Just talk to him. That's all I ask." So, you talk at him. Quite literally, you talk at him while he remains silent. After an hour, you've grown tired of repeating the same advice and suggestions, and so has Bill.

"Thanks for the, uhm, pep talk. I'm sure I'll be just fine now," he says dryly before getting up. You don't bother stopping him even after Remus gives you a look.

"I can't help someone who refuses to be helped."

But over the next few days, you feel guilty for letting him leave so easily. You remember that first month of absolute terror and frankly, you can't blame him for his behavior considering how you acted even worse. So, you do the only logical thing you can think of. You pack your bags and head for the Shell Cottage. Once before you visited with Arthur while on Order business, but you remember it like it was yesterday. You love that little cottage. Almost more than your own tiny house deep in a forest.

"Make yourself known." Making sure to keep your empty hands visible, you step forward.

"Just me." Bill slowly lowers his wand and steps inside. "Welcome, Y/N. So good to have you." Still mumbling by the time you reach the door, you take one final look at your surroundings before entering the cottage.

"Son of a Bludger, what have you done with the place?" It's in shambles. Mess everywhere, day-old food on the table, papers ripped apart and thrown across the room.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, ignoring your previous comment.

"I'm here because I'm a better person than you right now and despite your very rude behavior last time, I still want to help you." When he growls at you, your hand instinctively reaches for your wand.

"Right, you're afraid of me," he laughs, venom dripping from every word. There's no way you were ever this bad, right? Your burning cheeks betray you because you do remember the feelings coursing through him. When you were mutilated, you pushed everyone away. You became a hermit until you were sure you weren't going to hurt anyone.

"I'm not afraid of you. But you're not exactly a trustworthy person at the minute." Basically the same thing though. You're a little afraid of his reactions, but you're not about to let him know.

"Could you help bring in my suitcases? Molly said I was welcome to stay here while I figure out some protection for my own home." Horrible excuse. Your house is probably more protected than Shell Cottage but you also know he'll never let you stay unless you make him believe that you have nowhere else to go.

"It's war. One can never be too safe,” you add as you head for the guest room. This is going to take a while. And a while it takes. Merlin, you’re ready to give up several times. Three weeks pass before you even get him to go outside, and he complains the entire time. And just as you think you’re making progress, his mother stops by. Now, you like Molly Weasley. She has the best intentions but the pity in her eyes, her voice, her every action... it’s the exact thing Bill doesn’t need. Even you let out a deep sigh when she finally packs up her stuff after three days of uncut tension. 

“Nice lady,” you comment in the evening as you’re sitting in front of the fire. The silence lingers long enough for you to give up waiting for an answer. Then he laughs. It’s a little high-pitched and not all the way natural, but it’s a laugh. And you’ll take it. 

“Imagine growing up with her,” he laughs, and you join him. Bill Weasley doesn’t need to be coddled and having Molly visit just proves that very fact. 

“Alright, enough sitting around. Take my arm.” He hesitates but you can tell he just needs that little push. “Trust me.” Darkness swallows the both of you as you apparate to the nearest village. Without waiting for his reaction, you pull him into the nearest pub. 

“One beer. And then you’re free to leave.” It’s a muggle pub. No one will know what has happened to Bill here. They might think a bear got him or some other animal, but no one will shy away in fear (or disgust) he might turn into a werewolf. 

“Fine.” You’re taken by surprise when he so easily agrees, but you’re quick to recover and buy two beers before he changes his mind. 

“Cheers,” you say to the bartender before finding a table in the dark corner of the pub. When Bill isn’t fully consumed by self-loathing, he’s actually a pretty decent guy. You both share stories from some of your near-death adventures as curse-breakers, but he doesn’t ask the question you know he’s dying to ask, and you don’t offer the answer. But five beers later, even you are a little unsteady on your feet. Apparating back home is a lot more difficult when the world is spinning. But you manage without losing any limps. By the time you’re walking through the front door, Bill is giggling. 

“Come on, droopy. Time for bed,” you chuckle as you half carry him to his bedroom. He collapses on the bed, pulling you with him. 

“Stay in here tonight,” he mumbles but when you lock eyes with him, he seems almost sober. Logically, you know this is a bad idea, but he smells nice. And his hair looks so cute in that stupid man-bun. Before you know it, you’re closing the gap between the two of you. His lips are soft, gentle, and your head spins from the sensation. Any doubt you might have had goes out the window, when he cups your cheek and deepens the kiss. 

“Stay,” he repeats and you can do nothing but obey him. When his hands goes to the hem of your shirt and begin to remove it, you grab his hands to stop him. He’s nice enough to not comment on your shaking hands. 

“I don’t—I— It’s not pretty,” you finally say and your scars begin to burn as if they were fresh wounds. 

“I know.” He doesn’t sugarcoat it. He doesn’t try to convince you that you’re still pretty. He accepts your feelings because he knows. So, you let him remove your shirt. The cold makes you shiver, but you don’t hide under the covers. You want him to see you - all of you. When he gently runs his hand down your back, you feel tears sting your eyes. You don’t talk much for the rest of the night, but at one point you open up about how it happened. He listens not once interrupting you. Afterwards, he holds you for a long time. 

It’s the first night of complete honesty and it’s what starts your relationship. You saved him from himself but in some ways, he saved you too. 

[liyawritesss]

ᖴᒪOᗯEᖇᔕ Iᑎ ᗷᒪOOᗰ - ᐯᗩᒪEᑎTIᑎEᔕ ᗪᖇᗩᗷᗷᒪEᔕ

Ｄａｙ ２７ － Ｍａｔｃｈｉｎｇ Ｏｕｔｆｉｔｓ

－ Leather & Studs - Hobie Brown - Spiderman: Across The Spiderverse

－ In which Hobie gifts you with your own leather vest similar to his as an apology for his reckless behavior.

－ Check out more prompts and other activities on the Flowers In Bloom Event Masterlist!

“Baaabbbeee~!”

“Yes, Hobart?”

“Awe, c’mon, why you gotta use my full name like that?”

You were currently in your bed, working on an important assignment for class when Hobie decided to drop by. He was expecting a bit of coldness, having not come to visit for quite some time, barely answering texts or calls. He had to admit that he deserved the use of his full name though; he’s made you worry when he had no reason to. A pout crosses his lips, knowing he was in the wrong. “I’ve got somethin’ for ya~!”

“Did you steal it?”

“Alright now, these jabs are startin’ to hurt me a lil, love.”

You haven’t made a move to shoo him away yet, so Hobie takes it as an opportunity to sink further into your room, rolling through the window as he usually did when he came during the night. He’s got a long black shoulder bag over his shoulders, no doubt holding whatever peace offering he was hoping would ease the tension between the two of you.

“It’s somethin’ you’ll like - somethin’ you’ve been asking for for a while now actually.”

This piques your interest as you begrudgingly look away from the work in front of you to see what Hobie was on about. He produces from his bad a seemingly plain black jacket, oversized and denim jean; it was indeed something you had been wanting for a long time. It was because you wanted to match with Hobie, to have an article of clothing in your closet that not only reminded you of him, but could be paired with his own stylized clothing whenever the two of you would go out.

“...a black jean jacket?” You deduce, raising an eyebrow.

He holds up his hand in a pausing motion, as if he were about to reveal something grand, as he turns the jacket around to the back to reveal a very similar design to the one on the back of his leather one. The swirls of reds and whites on the back with patches he’d picked out specifically for you.

“...a punk black jean jacket?” You deduce again, correcting yourself from the first time, a tiny smile tugging at the ends of your lips.

“Pretty cool, innit?” Hobie gauges. “Designed by me, of course!”

“It’s definitely cool,” you said as you stood from your bed, approaching Hobie to examine it closer. The taller takes the initiative and throws it over your shoulders, wanting to see how it looked draped over you, and just as he’d imagined - the visual was stunning.

“Y’know, people usually apologize by saying sorry, not by getting their partners’ handmade punk jackets.”

“I know, I know,” Hobie reasons, his hands coming up in defense, “it’s been rough out here the past few days. You know I don’t like gettin’ you involved in this stuff like that.”

He’s not wrong - it was a boundary established quite clearly when he disclosed his secret identity to you. Still, he admitted he needed to work on his communication skills. He can be a bit flakey.

“You’re forgiven,” you hum softly, before reaching up to press a kiss to his cheek, “partially. We need to work on your texting.”

“You’re the one that said I can’t text and swing!” Hobie points out promptly.

“So you don’t swing into a building, dummy,” you remind him, playfully punching him in the shoulder, “you get enough bruises just by being thrown into them.”

“I’m trying,” Hobie assures, pulling you in for a kiss on the forehead, “both on the texting and not gettin’ thrown into buildings.”

If you enjoyed, please leave a like, comment, and reblog for others to see! And don’t be shy to send in a request!

[medicinal-doll]

Midnight perversion

Title: Midnight Perversion

Pairing: Werewolf!Henry! x reader

Words: 2K

Warning: Dub-con/Non-con, Hint at A/B/O,animal play,blood,guns,fear,p in v sex,teasing,mind-break,breeding kink

Summary: Somethings amiss with your boyfriend henry but you try not to let that ruin your wilderness retreat

A/N: Went A little crazy with the plot, And did not intend for him to be a werewolf when I started this..but I still had fun writing it!

*Please don't repost without permission If you use my writing as inspiration please ask first and credit me

.......

The rain pats against the front window like A broken metronome as the only sound in the car is the windshield wipers, and the low hum of the radio playing some obscure oldschool station. Your hands grip the wheel tighter because they've been threatening to slip off for the past hour. the reason for this is your boyfriend Henry's gaze fixed on you.

Henry's always been the sweetest boyfriend. you met when you got a flat tire on your way to leave town for A trip and he was the only one to help you "Need A hand darling?" He said in that sultry British accent and those words have always stuck with you ever since. When you accidentally cut yourself while cooking, when you cant reach something on a tall shelf, when your wifi keeps on crashing and you can't figure out why. There he is your big strong doting boyfriend to ask if you need his assistance.

But right now he's kind of scaring the shit out of you. and maybe you're overreacting but he's never looked at you this way before. the first time you looked at him was 40 minutes ago into the drive. With A smile on your face you innocently turned to ask him "Hey do you want Chinese or Mexican for din-..." you meet his eyes and halt your sentence dead in its tracks "Geez Hen why the serious look?"you say before pushing his chest playfully laughing nervously at the end hoping to lighten up the mood.

Nothing... not a word not a reaction. "Okay then...well I'll just assume you're in a mood then" that's the last thing you said, and up until now you can only feel his eyes on you and see his head facing towards you in your peripheral vision.

............

"Do you like dogs honey?"

Henry breaks the silence with his monotone voice. and you breathe out A heavy sigh at the normalcy and curse the times you told him to be quiet because you needed to focus. even though the conversation topic is a little random you're grateful nonetheless.

"Dogs are fine but I'm more of A cat person myself" "What about you babe?" You glance at him and you thought his face couldn't get any scarier. the expression of his eyes are equivalent to the likes of A dead fish. cold, unfeeling, and unmoving. His blue eyes you swear have changed color are A glowing hazel. but maybe it's just the street lights his eye bags are prominent despite him getting his full 8 hours of sleep. and his lips are pulled taut only opening and closing to utter a sentence before returning to their original stance.

"Cats, nasty selfish creatures. they hold no loyalty" he sneers "But dogs however are the epitome of loyalty, hopelessly devoted and caring to their owners with unconditional love"

"Uhm... that's really cool hen I didnt kno-".

"Did you know that if A dogs owner leaves while it's still a pup, and comes back when it's an elder. the dog will still recognize and love its owner....fascinating"

You dont respond back or even look at him you dont know what to say. you speed up the car hoping to reach your destination sooner you dont think henry would ever lay a hand on you but his behavior right now is quite unsettling

"You see honey, Me and dogs are more similar than you think" he places a firm hand on your thigh, and a light poking sensation surrounds the area of contact. but you brush it off not daring to look down.

"Henry you're kind of scaring me right now" "How about we talk about something more fun hm?" You say in a last ditch effort to save your sanity. henry withdraws his hand from your thigh and picks at his nails "Of course dear my apologies" And you detect a faint smile from the corner of your eye. Thank god your body language relaxes, ready for the change away from all the awkwardness hotboxing the car.

Henry let's out a small laugh then it fades A little to slowly "How about we discuss me popping your tire" your laugh that's a tad bit too loud fills the car "Henry..?"

"That day when you were heading out of town I slashed your tire"

The car stops and you pull the key out of the ignition. Your brain barely registering anything "What?..."

"Oh! Look honey we're here and just when our chat was starting to get good, what a shame" henry beams gleefully before hopping out of the car and popping the trunk "Cmon honey lighten up you've been waiting for this trip for weeks" he shouts to you while gathering your luggage"

Yeah, you have been waiting for this trip... just you, and henry. hundreds of miles away from town, and any civilization, alone in the wilderness with no service...alone with him...Maybe you should leave the trip destinations to someone with a brain.

You wipe your eyes and blank out the last hour from your mind, blaming it on you both being a little stir crazy and car sick "Hey! let me help you with that babe it's heavy" you say going to help your mountain of a boyfriend who could probably carry you and the luggage in one go.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

You're at the campfire, beautiful glowing embers eminating off of it. and right across from you sits henry. he's eating the last of the hotdogs you brought "I guess we should've brought more food " you Joke as he downs the last bit in one bite smirking at you while he chews "Well..If we did run out.." "would you prefer being rotisseried or stewed" you go over and hit him lightly on the shoulder and he smiles and laughs at you.

"You know you really did scare me when we were in the car" you lean against his warm body grabbing his big hand holding it close to your lap "I'm sorry sweetie, I didn't mean to scare you like that honest" he rests his head against yours "it's okay it kind of turned me on A little" you giggle drunk off the warmth of the fire and him "Oh really.." "Well then maybe I should tell you that the blue sweater you had on before you left would've been A better option" "it's a shame you changed it, would've been better suited for the wilderness"

You lean your head up looking at him quizzically "Okay.. How the hell do you know what I was going to wear?"

"Well it's my job to know you are my mate after all" and he mutters your first middle and last name under his breathe sarcastically, but he doesn't or shouldn't know your middle name you never told him....

Your body tenses up, and that chill from the car comes back all over again. and even the heat from the fire and henry combined can't stop you from feeling ice cold.

"It was hard work you know" he expresses "following you all those months getting your routine down" "hell the easiest part was getting you on this trip, all I had to do was search up foresty locations on your laptop so you would get targeted ads" "And you immediately took the bait" he chuckles to himself before looking down at your stiff composure "Oh I'm sorry honey..Am I scaring you again?" He goes to brush your hair and you jolt up sprinting in the direction of the road. Henry rolls his eyes and sighs to himself "good job idiot now the poor thing is gonna get her clothes all dirtied up" he grunts before lifting his heavy frame from the cozy log and stalking in the direction you ran off in.

You run frantically and your lungs burn as they absorb the coldness of mother nature.

You close your eyes sobbing to yourself. and when you open them bright white beams blind you and you throw your hands up into the air. you hear an ear peircing screeching noise and you dare not open your eyes in the fear that you might be dead. Until you hear an angry door open and slam loudly "What the hell is your problem lady!Are you trying to be roadkill!"

You try to gain your composure and go to open your mouth. But strong firm hands harshly grip your shoulders and your back meets A muscular hard chest "I'm so sorry for the trouble sir, my girlfriend here had a bit too much to drink but I'll get her tucked into bed right now" he emphasized the last 2 words of that sentence, and his grip hardened into your shoulders starting to hurt.

Now, you can't be quiet. if you miss this opportunity he could do whatever he wanted and no one would be there to heed your screams. You cock your head forward before throwing it back crashing into Henry's face. He's caught off guard by your new found boldness and is knocked back, stunned for the time being. and you run to the trucker "Please Sir!! Help me! hes trying to kill me!" You run behind the stranger and hide your face as henry recovers from the hit. Blood runs from his nose and he wipes it with the sleeve of his sweater before glaring at the trucker with murderous eyes before glancing back to you.

"Honey don't do this you're drunk. Now why dont you knock it off upsetting this poor man, and come on back with me" he reaches his hand out hand goes to take a few steps towards you but then A gun clicks "Now listen here boy!you leave this lady here alone!" Henry tilts his head and takes a step closer "Boy! Dont you come one step closer or I'll blast you into next week" henry smiles eerily before lunging at the man and A gunshot rings out. your head shoots up, and you see your boyfriend's burly frame crash into the road head first.

"No!" You cry out dropping to your knees and grab Henry's head cradling it in your arms. he's been good to you until tonight. And even though you wanted to get as far away from him as possible. you didn't want to see him die. you sob and the man gently pulls you back "C'mon miss, dont you go worrying about him. He's in the devils hands now...".

"No...." you whisper softly through your tear stained face as you let yourself be pulled away. he leads you into the passenger seat of the truck and helps you in "Now you stay right here miss I'm gonna make A call to the sherriff about what went on here, you just close your eyes and rest" "lord knows you've been through enough for the night...." the man turns and heads to the back of the truck to grab something presumably his cellphone.

You try to close your eyes but you can't, not after what happened. you drift your eyes to the road still in disbelief that henry was really gone......

Wait...where the hell is his body.

"AaaAH!!!" A blood curdling yell sounds from the back of the truck, and you swing your head around to peer through the small window. but theres nothing there you turn your head back to face the front window, then the driver door, then turn to the passenger door and your heart drops out of your chest. Henry's bloodly face is pressed against the window slightly fogging it up with his heavy breathing both palms flat against the glass.

How is he still alive should be your first question but his appearance plagues your eyes. Canines sharp enough to tear flesh and bone. Ears pointed up towards the sky.And you thought he couldn't get any bigger. but if he was 6'1 and 200 pounds before. he was at least 7'1 and 300 pounds now. he's horribly hunched over just to look into the window, plus hes way hairier than before. the bush of chesthair peaking through his torn sweater. but the most captivating feature is his eyes. pupils that were formerly circular black now pointed into animalistic slits, and irises glowing A bright hazel just like in the car. his nails long and sharp, must've been what you felt in the car.

The door to the truck is ripped from its hinges. tossed away at the road like scrap metal. henry places A death grip around your waist dragging you from the seat. kicking and screaming you claw at the leather of the truck fighting to stay in but he's too strong. with one last tug he rips you from the safety of the truck, throwing you over his shoulder. And without A word he trudges back toward your campsite.

"Henry No!-Put me down!" You bang your fists against his hard back. but henry continues forward unfazed by your feeble attempts of fighting him. you reach the campsite fire now gone out from being neglected. Henry makes a sharp right turn unzipping and entering into your tent. He tosses your body on the sleeping bags and turns to zip the tent. you pop back up and try to attack him,hit his face claw at him, anything to get the hell out of here. but he holds you at bay with one arm swatting away your attempts, as if your nothing but A fly.

When henry finishes zipping the tent you watch as he snaps the end of the zipper off and puts it in his pocket. he then turns his eyes to you and grabs a hold of your neck, his large hand wrapping entirely around it like fresh kill from a successful hunt.

He forces your head down, holding your neck until your face is flush against the sleeping bag. you thrash your body violently and try to resist, but pause when the sound of A belt unbuckling fills your ears.

"Now you may think the scariest part about this whole thing is the dead trucker, my changed appearance, or the fact that I'm about to take you right here and there's nothing you can do about it"

He grabs your pants and panties on both sides and harshly tugs them down to your mid thigh.

"But what I think the scary part is.." "Is the fact that I've been swapping your birth control pills for placebos this past week"

Your eyes widen filled with shock, but it doesn't quite set in with you until you feel his hands caress your tummy slowly.

"I'd always thought you'd make such A beautiful mommy" he kisses your back. And you fucking lose it "Henry-!No Dont!!" you kick your legs at him trying to wiggle out of his grasp, but his hand is unyielding around your neck you feel his tip brush your entrance "No.." you whimper and bury your head into the sleeping bag reluctantly accepting your fate.

You feel his huge throbbing cock sheath into your tight pussy, going deeper and deeper until its flush against your cervix. And his large balls rest roughly against your clit. You scream into the pillow with a mix of pleasure and pain, And henry let's out A low groan. He hasn't even moved yet, but you still feel as though you'll break into a million pieces "No Henry take it out please!!"

Henry ignores your pleas. And starts slamming into your small opening grabbing you by the hips to keep you crashing down on his girthy cock over and over again. you scream at the top of your lungs "Henry!!!!" Tears stream from your face "it hurts...no..Take it out please..."broken sobs leave your mouth.

Henry moans out in pleasure "Almost there sweetie I promise it'll feel better soon" he let's go of your neck and places both large hands your hips "Open up for me hun" He says before slamming your body's together in unison. A jolt of pain rocks you to your core and you open your mouth agape in a silent scream, while you feel the stretch of his knot entering your slick walls. then a wave of pleasure comes over you. This causes you to clamp down hard on his cock. and your body shakes from the intense rush then goes limp.

"mine already..." he let's out a faint growl "Your body was made just for me" he pumps into your pussy, and you grip onto the sleeping bag for dear life. eyes rolling to the back of your head and mouth wide open, tongue flopping out like a lost little pup.

Strangled moans drip from your salivated lips "Henryy!" You call his name over and over like it's the only thing you can think of "fuck baby I'm close" he slaps your ass and your walls tighten around him "Mhmmm... That's right baby fucking milk me" "milk the cum from your owners cock" you whine at his words as he fucks every last bit of resistance out of you "Henry more!breed me up good!" tears leak from your blurry eyes "please give me A baby just one please!..." you cry into your weak wrists.

"Aw baby Have I fucked you dumb already?" He laughs at you "dont worry baby I'll knock you up with A family of pups" "you just keep squeezing me nice and good okay baby?" "AAaah...!" You yell as your 4th orgasm washes over you like A tsunami and Henry bucks his knot into you further, fat thick heavy balls slapping against your clit with each thrust.

Henry let's out A primal moan with his hands on your hips glueing you both together, as he paints your walls white and floods your fertile womb with his spawn. His chest rises heavily up and down before he flops to the side still inside you.

You weakly try to crawl away but he pulls you to his sweaty hairy chest and kisses you all over your face "Not yet baby we gotta make sure your womb takes" he snuggles into you, and your defenses are gone. With your mind unable to form one coherent thought, you nod in agreement and give into his comfort whilst you drift off to sleep in his arms.

[blank-house]

usually i just lurk in fandoms and read the answers to other people's asks, but i litr can't hold back anymore. THE STAT RAISING SYSTEM HELLOOO???? i was already obsessed and now this too? how exactly does it work, like if i’m spring but then choose a lot of composed options, do i become winter at some point, or do i do a mix of spring and winter behaviours + will there be any sort of indicator in the game of which stats you’ve raised like a pop up/menu where you can see your 4c/li stats? tysm!!

AH YAYYY SOMEONE'S EXCITED FOR THE STAT RAISING WOO! I'm so glad you asked because I had spent the better half of December last year thinking about it. And now I can finally ramble about this lol

But yes stats! There would be an indicator made so you can easily track the 4C's and the LI affections. As for how the the attribute points work, you won't get to change your season once it's been assigned (it would be, realistically speaking, weird if we make your behavior and speech switch after establishing that this is how you would normally act) but we do make it a point to clock whatever attribute is your highest stat.

So when you start a new game, besides establishing how an MC would act, we also assign you a set of starter points based on your season. For example, if you get Fall then you have a high amount of Compassion, medium amount of Charm and Composure, and a low amount of Confidence. Other seasons would get a similarly mixed bag of these attributes.

As you progress through the game and acquire points from your choices, the balance could start to shift in what is then considered to be your highest attribute, but since you don't get to change seasons again you would just be a more Charming Fall or a Confident Fall instead and the cast will recognize this change in MC.

So if you happened to be a Summer MC that suddenly grew more composed and less confident, you might have a cast member pull you aside to ask you if something's wrong. In a similar vein, if you're a Fall MC that shot up in confidence, they would muse over your new spunk.

Let me actually grab a bit of text from the end of the extended spring demo as an example. (Scroll past the blue text if you'd rather not be spoiled of any content even if it's a blurb).

If confidence is the highest stat: If Spring: mc “Oh, sweet, sweet, Cam. Frequency doesn’t dictate camaraderie. If they show up, then they show up. No need to invite them.” Deja chuckled from above you. de “Flashing your fangs, [name]? Where’s the usual sugar?” From where you laid, you grinned, bearing your proverbial weapons. Being straightforward wasn't usually in your books but you learned to take a page from your roommate. mc “I'm simply saying, the world’s not over if they're a no show, no?” If Summer: mc “Eh, who cares?” Cameron pouted, now completely tugging at their hoodie's drawstrings. ca “I know you like to speak your mind, but damn— harsh.” mc “I mean they’re good people but you don’t gotta twist yourself into a knot just because they’re not here.” mc “Who needs them, right!” de “No holds barred as always.” You shrug yourself, lips pulling back into your trademark grin. If Fall: mc “I mean… just because we’ve been in each other’s company doesn’t mean we’d all be friends.” Silence. Cameron and Deja offered you varying degrees of astonishment. You pursed your lips from their reaction, knowing full well what must be running through their head. And oddly enough, you didn’t feel guilty about it. Slowly, a smirk curled on Deja’s lips. de “Someone missed their daily dose of compassion this morning.” You scrunch your nose, fingers brushing against one of her braids as you swat it from your vision. mc "I'm okay if they're not here but if you want them to be, Cam, of course you're welcome to send them a text.” If Winter: mc “We don’t always have to invite them everywhere, you know.” ca “I mean, yeahhh, sure. But like, they’ve grown on me. Didn’t they on you?” mc “Ehh.” Your lackluster reply had Deja snickering. de “You never cared to say no before. Did one of them hit a nerve?” You rolled your eyes. mc “No. I’m just saying—” de “And that’s the thing, you. Saying something. Did you finally discover you have a voice?” You leveled her an unamused look but she only laughed harder.

It's the same scenario regardless, but because some of the seasons are less inclined to say something out loud, it's more realistic if your friends realize this change and react based on that.

That being said, we won't check for these changes often, since it's more obvious that you've changed after enough time has passed.

And other than these narration differences, attributes also have a hand at how a choice might unfold-- kind of like a DND check, if you have enough composure then you can successfully lie about this thing and if not you'd get caught. Or if you have enough compassion then the cast might feel inclined to let you in on a secret earlier etc, etc.

The attributes play an important role in the game, but like I said in a previous ask regarding the seasons-- please don't get hung up on attributes! They're more for story purposes and they won't have advantages or disadvantages when it comes to the romantic routes. I just think they'll add a wonderful layer to the immersion. ^^

~*~*~*~

Let me know if this is still confusing and I'll do my best to clarify again otherwise thank you for the ask!

[kentosbabes]

Hi how was your day! I hope it was good

(Everything from here is my daddy issues screaming)

Imagine nanami (maybe gojo and geto to if we’re feeling a lil silly)

With a reader who has daddy issues(self projection🧍‍♀️) both kinds…

The shouting and yelling one aswell as the distant one

Cause like yk my dad is in another country and when I do see him it’s really awkward and usually ends in some sort of fight

If I had to explain the relationship I have with my dad I would need a year cause it’s so complicated

BUT ENOUGH OF THAT LETS GET INTO THE ACTUAL STUFF

So I can’t really form relationships with men cause I’m scared I’ll get hurt again but when I do it hits me like a train wreck cause I get attached to older men so quickly

Literally any type of praise from men makes me start sobbing

At the end of the day I’m just an angry little girl who wants her daddy back

THATS THE SCRIPT BASICALLY

I just want nanami to praise me then comfort me as I cry about how much I hate and miss him All at the same time

Imagine how confused he would be when I start sobbing just cause he told me good job after I done something so small like waking up early then I explain that I’ve never felt that kind of fatherly love before and it just makes me crumble

Imagine how he would look at me when I start staring at a dad and his little girl being happy together not crying or anything just staring wondering why he couldn’t be like that and what I did wrong to make him so angry at me

this is so long I’m sorry if this is to long or to blunt 😅😅

OH MY I hope you're okay...

but I can relate in a way, having a father who isn't from here and had a difficult childhood means he often projects his own issues onto me. I'm also very similar to him and I do everything to try to live up to his standards but that means we often just clash and argue all the time. The need for praise is probably what led me here and my obsession with older men...ANYWAYS this is going to be very self-indulgent but I hope you enjoy <3

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

After a long day at work, Nanami cannot wait to come home to you. Although he knows you may not be the happiest due to him working overtime again, he hopes he can make it up to you with lots of kisses.

Just as he anticipates your standing in the kitchen with music playing while you sir of what he assumes is his favorite food. You're dancing around with an apron that says 'I love my boyfriend' tied tightly to your body. 'Hey love' he says as he walks towards you, dropping his bags in the process. You turn and smile at him bringing him into a tight hug. 'you're in a good mood' he mumbles into your neck.

'missed you' you say pecking his cheek before focusing back on the dinner. Nanami wraps his arms tight around you and begins kissing you neck sweetly.

'It smells so good my love' he says his chin resting on your shoulder 'Your such a good cook'. You lay your head on his as you begin to plate up the dinner.

Nanami can't help but notice your change in behavior as he continues to praise your hard work. 'I'm so lucky, god your amazing' he practically moans out while he takes another bite of food. Usually, you blush and get all flustered at his praises, instead, you don't touch your food at all and begin playing with your fingers under the table.

He watches as you get up and begin to wash up the dishes. Nanami thinks it's because he worked overtime and how he hasn't been as present as usual. He pushes the thoughts of insecurity to the back of his mind and walks back up to you, helping dry the dishes. 'That was perfect baby thank you' he says whilst putting a plate away.

You sigh at his words. Thoughts of memories with your father flooding through your mind. How he would dance with you in the kitchen and feed you the food he cooks. All of the good and loving memories of him fade away as Nanami continues to praise you. As much as you appreciate his support you can't help the feeling of sadness that creeps up into you. The memories of the arguments and fights with your dad and the constant trying for his appriciation.

The feeling begins flowing through your chest and your surroundings begin caving in on you. Nanami watches as you drop everything and rush off to the bathroom. He finishes up the dishes deciding on giving you some space.

The tightness in your chest only begins to get worse and you find yourself being sick. The constant thoughts of your dad and how he made you feel mixed with the love and care you so dearly miss was overwhelming. Your boyfriend is quick to rush into the bathroom and soothingly rub your back.

He doesn't question you, he just pulls you into his chest and lets you cry. The feeling begins to ease as he softly rubs circles into your back. 'come on love, let's get you to bed' he says before helping you up and laying you in bed.

Nanami cleans up the bathroom and kitchen before joining you. His fingers draw patterns on your arm as you lay on your back facing the ceiling. You cant help the thoughts that invade your mind. The good and the bad memories of your dad mixed with the anger you have for him.

The memories of how he would take you to the mall after being gone for weeks to make up lost time. And how quickly that happiness would be ruined. The arguments about your grades and lack of support he provided. Then he's gone again, whether physically or mentally it would go weeks before the cycle then repeats itself.

The lack of appreciation and support he provided is what made you fall in love with Nanami. All he does is shower you with praises and compliments and makes sure to support you in everything you do. Yet this time it was different. You couldn't help but imagine how things would be different if your own father showed you the love and affection you deserved.

'whatever bothering you love stop thinking about it.' Nanami's voice snaps you out of your thoughts 'We will deal with it tomorrow, just get some sleep'.

'Kento' you say softly turning to look at him. he hums in response 'I love you'.

He smiles widely before pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. 'I love you to now get some sleep my love'. His words send you right to sleep. His gentle touches taking away the bad throughs and allowing you to fall softly to sleep.

-

'You're up early' Nanami says turning to look at you waddling out of the bedroom. You groan out in response, going to sit next to him on the sofa.

'You slept very well though, I'm proud of you' he says placing a soft kiss to your temple.

You don't know what flows through you at that moment. Whether it was anger or annoyance, you just felt like you wanted out of there. It was all getting too much. The memories and images of your father back flowing in your mind. The fighting and the screaming at one another. Just begging for his approval. You shove out of Nanami's hold moving to the other side of the sofa. 'babe what's wrong?' he asks reaching out for you.

'won't you just leave me alone' you mumble looking down at your hands. Nanami's expression is filled with confusion. He thought maybe you were just stressed yesterday and some sleep would help, but this was different. This wasn't who he knew, but that didn't mean he was going to stop trying to help. So he reaches out to you again.

But you're quick to get up from your seat and practically shout 'Leave me alone' before ranting on about how he's never home and you never see him and how bad it makes you feel.

Although slightly shocked Nanami still proceeds to reach out for you as you wave your hands around and shout. He can't shake the feeling that there is something else behind all of this. That he's somehow triggered a memory that has left you agitated.

'my love, it's okay' he says softly as he rises from his seat. 'I'm sorry I haven't been as present as usual, and I will do better from now on. I just can't shake the feeling that there's something else'

His hand reaches out for yours once more and his soft touch sends you over the edge as you begin sobbing into his chest. His arms wrap tightly around you as your clutch onto his pajama top. Your tears begin to wet his shirt but he doesn't care, he just wants to be there for you in any way he can.

After a while of holding you, your sobs begin slowing and he sits you down on his lap, rubbing circles onto your thigh. 'talk to me my love' his simple words, allows you to feel safe in his arms like he won't leave you like your father.

And so you explain everything, from the good memories from when you were young to the fights that happened when you got older. You tell him about the anger you still feel towards him but also how much you miss him and want to be his little girl again.

'oh my love that's horrible. You deserve all the love in the world and I will do everything to make sure you know that' he continues to comfort you through your breakdown until he has you giggling in his arms

'I'm serious my dad did that to me can you believe that?' he chuckles watching as you smile up at him. 'come on let's make pancakes and then maybe we can have a picnic, how does that sound?'

'it sounds perfect Kento, thank you' you say pulling him into a soft kiss.

Before you know it you're laying down in the sun with Nanami whilst he feeds you strawberries. Everything is perfect from the sweet strawberries to the way his hair softly blows in the wind.

Soft giggles can be heard not too far away and you turn to look where they're coming from. You see a young girl playing with her dad running around. Nanami is quick to notice your staring and brings a hand to your chin turning you so your eyes meet his own. 'I know that must bring such sad memories into your mind, but there's no point thinking what if, you wouldn't be the beautiful person you are today without it and I love you no matter any imperfections you think you have, to me your perfect'. He smiles down and softly kissing your lips before beginning to tickle you 'Now we've just got to make sure you know how deserving you are'.

we. you and him together. 'o-okay Kento stop that tickles!' you giggle out collapsing onto his chest.

[colormepurplex2]

Chasing Shadows | Cat & Mouse

↳  Jungkook x f.Reader ⤜ Best Friends Brother/Lovers ⤜ Rating: MA 🔞 ⤜ WC: 5,989 ⚠️ death threats, breaking and entering, stalker behavior, references to crime and violence

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“Another one?” you mumble to yourself as you twist your key and lock your door, heading out for work. Attached to the front of your door with a small sliver of clear tape is a dirty, brown napkin. There’s a grease stain on one corner and small spatters across the bottom edge. A red logo is distorted by the smear, but you can just make out that it says Rosey’s Place.

You grab a tissue from your bag and snatch the napkin down. Turning it over, you suck in a stilted breath. A crude drawing is etched in red and black ink across it. Though it’s a poorly executed image, you can clearly see it’s a cat eating a mouse. Very juvenile, but no less macabre. It’s offensive enough on its own, but add it with the other two scraps of trash with similar drawings on them that you’ve received over the last few days, and it has the hair on the nape of your neck standing on end.

It could just be some punk-ass kids playing a joke. But, in your line of work, you’re a bit more paranoid even when it comes to seemingly innocuous coincidences or harmless pranks. Criminal journalism is in your blood, but it also comes with an ingrained sense of overbearing self-preservation. Better to be cautious than be a victim. You write dark, yet wholly real, pieces on some of the largest crime heads in the world. Your articles aren’t exactly glamorous and flattering; you have plenty of potential enemies.

Sighing, you shake your head and wrap the tissue around the napkin and tuck it away into your bag for now. You’re heading into the office and the few extra minutes it would take to get back into your apartment and do something with the napkin are precious minutes you desperately need to grab a coffee.

Despite your own sense of self-awareness, you still aren’t always able to brush off that little bit of disbelief. Which is why you find yourself pulling out your phone and dialing your best friend.

“A call before eight in the morning, to what do I owe this pleasure?”

You smile and hit the button for the lobby in the elevator. “Hey, E. I wanted to run something by you. If you have a moment?” Being on the third floor, your ride down doesn’t take long.

She hums thoughtfully. “Always got time for you, babe. Lay it on me.”

“First, promise you won’t freak out?” you lower your voice as you make your way across the lobby and pass Henry at the front desk. He throws a hand up in greeting and you nod, giving him a small smile.

There is silence on the line for a moment. You know she’s having her own internal struggle not to instantly react to that preface. “You realize saying that only makes me want to freak out before I even know what you’re going to ask of me, right?” she finally says.

“Yeah, but, it’s not really all that big of a deal. At least, I don’t think so. That’s what I’m getting your opinion on, actually, determining if it is something that I should be freaking out about,” you explain with a shrug even though she can’t see you.

There’s a hint of suspicion in her voice as she responds, “I can’t promise that I won’t freak out. But, I’ll try to keep my head about it.”

“This morning as I was leaving, I found a crude drawing on a diner napkin taped to my door. This is the third drawing like this that I’ve gotten. It could just be some kids in the building being assholes, but I don’t know. What do you think? Nothing or…” you trail off, hoping you don’t sound completely paranoid.

“I see,” she sighs. “Well, what kind of drawings are we talking about here?”

You hesitate to reveal the truth, knowing it could potentially set her off. Maybe that’s the answer you need anyway, if you’re too hesitant to even tell her because you’re worried how she’ll react then it’s probably something you should be worried about. You called her because you value her opinion, both professionally and as your best friend. 

“The first was from a ripped-up fast food bag, it had a hawk eating a rabbit on it. The second was a matchbook with a spider catching a fly. This last is on a greasy diner napkin and has a cat eating a mouse. All black and red ink, very crude and elementary, bordering on stick figures but still plain enough to determine what they are.”

 A colorful swear comes down the line. “You expect me not to freak out? Babe, that’s straight out of weirdo stalker 101. My protective momma bear instincts are kicking in. I swear, if this somehow leads back to your damn job, I’m going to force you to quit. That fucking website gets you into way more trouble than my job ever has me.”

“Enola, you’re an FBI profiler. I’m just a journalist. That’s like comparing apples and oranges. You definitely take the cake in the trouble department. Don’t jump the gun here, it’s probably just nothing.” You hate to admit she has a point, though. You’ve found yourself in some rather unnerving situations over the years due to the nature of your job. But, she’s the one who actively seeks out the crazies with guns and intent to harm; surely, that means her job has more trouble. Though at least she also has a gun to point back at the crazies…you’re just armed with a laptop and the can of mace at the bottom of your bag.

Enola gives a soft, humorless laugh. “Let’s not start this conversation again. My opinion is that it’s something you need to be cautious about. I insist on you getting a door cam or something like I told you to months ago. Have you told Detective Jung about this?”

“My building has security. Henry would have mentioned if there was something weird going on, someone suspicious or out of place in the building. Which is all the more reason why I think it’s just kids being punks. It’s probably Ms. Abernathy’s kids, Cody and Riley. You know how much shit they get into around here. Just last week they flooded the basement trying to film some TikTok video. And, I did tell Hoseok,”—you emphasize his name—,” about it after the second one and he said that unfortunately there isn’t much that can be done over a few pieces of trash being taped to my door.”

She laughs again and you can practically hear her eye roll. “On a first-name basis with that asshole now? That’s a conversation we’ll have another time, I promise you that. Shit. Hey, look, I gotta go. I’m being summoned for a meeting with Director Connor. More than likely I’m going to be heading out on assignment soon, otherwise, I’d come over myself and we’d look into this together. What I am going to do, though, is text my brother your number. He’ll give you a hand and if it so happens to not be some kids in the building, he has the resources to take it seriously and get you the help the police refuse to provide.”

You consider refusing her brother’s help. You haven’t seen nor talked to him since you were teenagers and don’t want to impose on his life. But, you know it’ll be easier to just accept and placate Enola for the time being. “Thanks, E, you’re the best.” Your office building comes into view as you round the corner. The coffee shop you want to stop in is just across the street. “I’ll catch you later.”

“Hey, wait,” she stops you before you can hang up. “Listen, please be careful, okay? I know you don’t think it’s anything serious; but just, please, for me?”

The sincerity in her voice breaks down your walls a little. “Yeah, of course, always. I promise.”

Enola says goodbye and assures her brother will be reaching out to you sometime later today. The cafe isn’t very busy so you manage to get a coffee and make it into the office before most of your coworkers arrive.

Working for a major news outlet, specifically doing the criminal and justice spread, is everything you ever wanted in a career. Growing up, you devoured mystery and thriller novels which quickly developed into a love for true crime and murder mystery as an adult. You love watching true crime documentaries and listening to various crime podcasts.

Some of your closest friends work in adjacent fields. Like Enola being an FBI profiler and Hoseok being a detective with the local PD. They have a history together, which is why Enola is hard-pressed to show as little respect to Hoseok as possible right now. You can’t really blame her, he was a total ass. But, he’s really good at his job and you know he’d help you in any capacity that he could, if he could. The police department is just limited in what they really can do and the resources they can expend for a situation like yours.

Setting your coffee down on your desk, you settle into your chair and pull out your laptop from your bag. You tuck your bag into the bottom drawer of your desk and lock it before sliding the small key ring into your pant pocket.

“Morning, boss!” Taehyung, one of your coworkers, calls as he enters the office. You’re still getting used to that title— boss. It’s only something you recently acquired. Your last big exposé earned you a promotion to team lead editor. You’re now in charge of the entire crime and justice branch of The Scarlet Informant, totaling just under a dozen people.

You waggle your fingers around your cup at him as you take a sip from your coffee. “Morning, Tae, how was your evening?” Building rapport and a bond with your team was priority number one for you. Despite working with these same people for years already, you feel like you could be making more of an effort, especially now as their boss.

He slides into his chair and hides a yawn behind a fist. “Mmm, it was good. I had a meeting with a new lead for my Marshal story. I think I really might have something special.” Taehyung crosses his fingers and does a little shoulder shimmy in his chair. His black polo and navy slacks complement his slim frame. You catch the glint of a silver watch on his wrist. Taehyung, you’ve come to learn, has an extensive collection of watches, wearing a different one every day. “Is this what it felt like for you when you landed that key info on Nauvez? I still can’t believe your article ultimately led to his arrest. That’s like, the epitome of badassery.”

The tight smile that pulls at your lips feels weird. When you first published the shadow piece on Nauvez you had no idea it would actually help the LAPD track him down and make the arrest. You lucked out on putting together some breadcrumbs, talking to the right people, and somehow connected dots the police hadn’t. That’s how you ended up with your promotion; just pure luck, though everyone swears you deserve it regardless and you’re being far too humble.

You honestly don’t mind the promotion and intend to do your best no matter what. Your only fear is that you’ll grow to resent it. The last thing you want to be is stuck in a job you hate. Writing is your passion, your main hope is that you’re able to continue writing even when delegating to others. So far, it’s worked out fine.

“That’s wonderful. Just be sure to vet your sources thoroughly. We don’t do maybe’s or possibly’s, nothing but definitive reporting. Taking on a new source is its own balancing act. If it wasn’t for my resources, that Nauvez piece wouldn’t have been nearly as impactful.” You’re a firm believer in doing things the right way. No cutting corners or taking the easy way around a story. It’s important for people to get the facts, false information and the grey areas of crime reporting are extremely dangerous.

Taehyung laughs. “Wouldn’t dream of disappointing you like that. We have that meeting with Rigby later, right?”

“That’s right. It’s after the editor meeting. He wants to discuss the projections for next quarter. There’s also the new newsletter format he wants to roll out that needs some tweaking. I imagine Paris will have something to say about that,” you mutter, more to yourself than Taehyung. Paris is the office mean girl. She’s the team lead editor for the fashion and pop-culture columns. If she wasn’t so good at her job, you’re certain Rigby would have canned her by now.

“Good morning, fellow Scarleters!” The nasally pitch of Paris’ voice echoes down the hall as she prances through the office commons. “I grabbed bagels on my way in this morning, from that cute vegan spot on Seventh.” Her fiery red curls appear in the doorway to your team's office before her face does. “Hi, sweeties!”

You internally cringe at the saccharinity dripping from her words. “Morning, Paris,” you try to suppress the sigh in your tone.

“Hey,” Taehyung offers with a half-hearted wave toward the door. His desk is on the far side of the room, facing the large windows overlooking the cityscape.

Paris drops a white paper bag onto the corner of your desk. “Enjoy!” You nod in thanks, turning back to your laptop to make sure you’re prepared for the morning meeting. Long, red-lacquered nails tap against the top of your laptop screen. Paris leans in when you look up at her with a raised eyebrow. “I made sure to get the low-fat bagel option for you.” She says it with an overly sweet smile on her face. “Us girls gotta look out for each other, right?” Her eyes flick over what she can see of your body above your desk before sweeping out of your office space.

You’re still trying to reign in your desire to shove the low-fat bagel down her throat when Taehyung makes a disgruntled sound from behind you. “One day she’s going to get punched in her fake lips and I sincerely hope you’re the one that does it.”

That makes you laugh. The sudden mirth instantly puts you at ease. “Wouldn’t that be something?”

The rest of your office files in over the next few minutes and the space quickly fills with soft chatter and clacking keystrokes as everyone adds last-minute touches to their reports.

You quickly forget about Paris and her disgusting attitude. At least, until you’re heading toward the conference room and she falls into step beside you. 

“You must be so concerned for Kat, huh?” she feigns a sad pout. But her words throw you off.

“Kat?”

As if the exaggeratedly appalled look on her face wasn’t enough, she flourishes a hand and presses it to her chest dramatically. “You know, Kat that works in your department. It’s terrible what’s going on with her brother. I can’t imagine having to put a loved one in a full-time care facility.”

Right. You had noticed she hadn’t made it into the office yet and had intended to check in but time got away from you. She asked a week ago to have the morning off for personal reasons today, which you granted. But, this is news to you. You didn’t know she was having to put her brother in a care facility, or that she even had a brother, to begin with. That is if Paris is even telling the truth; it wouldn’t be the first rumor she’s started in the office. Kat’s one of the few people in your department that has been a bit more reserved when it comes to opening up and bonding with you in your new position. So, for all you know it could be true, even coming from Paris.

“Right,” you mutter hoping she drops the need to spout gossip, especially considering it concerns one of yours and a situation you know nothing about.

She doesn’t stop, though, tacking on a very distasteful comment. “Paralyzed from the waist down, apparently. Poor guy probably can’t even get— Oh!” Paris staggers hard to the right, her shoulder smacking into the wall as you continue down the hall. “What the hell!?” she calls after you.

“Sorry, you were walking a little too close I guess. Hope I didn’t scuff your shoe,” you toss back, not giving her the satisfaction of looking at her while she huffs behind you.

You suppress a smile as you enter the conference room, Paris hot on your heels. “These are five hundred dollar shoes,” she hisses as she passes you to take her seat on the other side of the long table. Her pea-soup-colored eyes bore into you once she settles into her chair. You mouth ‘sorry’ and shrug a shoulder then turn and give Rigby, who’s seated at the far end of the table, your full attention.

“Good morning, everyone, let’s begin with our plans for next quarter.” Rigby pulls his wire-framed glasses down off the top of his head and onto the bridge of his nose. His close-shorn black hair is peppered with silver and his grey suit is fashionable but not flashy. He’s a great boss and you easily get lost in the conversation and ease of making plans for the next quarter.

By the time your editor meeting is over, it’s time for your team meeting. Rigby sticks around for it, listening in and giving his input as he sees fit. You welcome his direction, knowing he’s been working in the journalism and publishing field for at least as long as you’ve been alive. He’s the main reason The Scarlet Informant is as successful as it is.

As the meeting comes to a close, you impart a few words of advice for your team and dismiss everyone back to their respective desks. As Taehyung passes you, heading to the door, you pat his shoulder. “Hey, just a moment, if you will.”

He turns his brilliant smile on you. “What’s up, boss?”

“You’re pretty close with Kat, aren’t you?”

Taehyung bobs his head from side to side in a so-so fashion. “I guess. As much as two coworkers can be close. We don’t hang out outside of work, though. She’s quite shy and reserved. Total sweetheart, though. Why?”

“Paris mentioned something to me earlier on the way to our editor meeting. Do you think Kat would mind if I asked her about it?”

His smile slips. “Paris can’t keep her mouth shut can she? Kat’s a private person, but I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if you asked her. She’s only told me a little bit about what’s going on. That red-headed she-devil probably was eavesdropping again.”

That would be classic Paris, putting her too-perfect-thanks-to-dr-whoever’s nose where it doesn’t belong. You make a mental note to approach Kat about it when she makes it into the office later; in hopes of getting ahead of gossip that might make Kat, being the private person she is, uncomfortable.

It’s a few hours later when you notice Kat slipping into the office. She keeps her head down, her mousy brown hair pulled into a tight bun at the back of her head and her horn-rim glasses barely staying on her nose. The muted orange cardigan she has on over a pale yellow floral dress looks vintage, especially paired with her toffee-colored loafers and white socks with lace trim. Kat has always reminded you of a librarian or maybe someone who runs an antique shop, quirky and soft in a cute way.

“Hey, Kat,” you chirp, trying to come off as light-hearted as possible as you approach her desk. “Did everything go okay this morning?”

Her large brown eyes drift up from the folder open on her desk. There is a moment where you’re certain you see a sliver of something resembling fear there but it’s gone before you can be certain. “It was fine.” She swallows hard, averting her eyes.

“That’s good to hear.” You’re not sure how to broach the subject, so you just go for it. “I heard something earlier, someone mentioned a potential reason you were needing the time off.” You pause, seeing if she’ll react to you mentioning gossip about her, but she just glances up at you from beneath her lashes. “I just want you to know that if you need additional time, I can work with your schedule. Family is important and I want to make sure you have everything you need in any way that I can.”

Her thin lips form into a soft smile but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Do you really mean that?”

“Of course,” you’re quick to assure. Taking care of your team is your number one priority. Plus, you’re big on a good work-life balance. So, if Kat needs time away to take care of her family, you’ll make sure Rigby has no reason to complain. “If you need anything, just let me know. Okay?”

Kat hums, rolling her lips between her teeth before nodding. She directs her attention back to the folder in her hand. “The Handler files, I’m just going over them again,” she says in a way that feels like she’s dismissing you. You can only imagine the morning she’s had, so you don’t push or question further.

“Right. Good luck with that, I’m sure you’ll find anything that may have been missed.” You rap your knuckles lightly on her desk before heading back to your own.

Getting lost in the demand of work helps with your own morning troubles. The greasy napkin in your bag is long forgotten. It’s not until you’re pulling your laptop out at home that you catch sight of it at the bottom of your bag. The text you got earlier from Enola’s brother still sits on your phone, unread.

You pull the wadded-up tissue and napkin out of your bag and set it on your dining table. The other two items you stashed away in your office. At first, you had tossed the fast food bag scrap in the trash. It wasn’t until you found the matchbook that you dug it back out and put them both away to think over at a later time.

Now seems like as good a time as any. Pocketing your phone, you head down the hallway to your office. It doubles as a guest room with a fold-out sofa bed. The space is cozy with your large L-shaped oak desk tucked into a corner so the window of the room sits just above the far edge of the desk.

You’ve been in here so many times you could navigate it in the dark, but you slap a hand on the light switch out of habit. The overhead light floods the room, the scene it reveals stopping you in your tracks.

“What the fuck?!”

One hand clutches the front of your shirt, and the other braces you against the wall as you stagger back. Your eyes flick over the far wall above the sofa, that’s now ripped to shreds; bits of fluff and fabric are scattered over the floor. There are black and white photos taped to the wall, some small and some as large as a movie poster. There are several words spray painted on the wall. Most prominent of all, though, is the ‘NO COPS’ in bright red right in the center.

As you take tentative steps closer, you make out some of the smaller photos. They’re all mostly candid shots, taken from a distance, of you, your family, and your friends. You recognize Enola, your parents, Detective Jung, and even some of your co-workers. The largest photo, centered on the wall, is a blown-up print from your promotion. Rigby has your hand clasped in his, you’re both smiling at the camera. Surrounding you both is your team, all frozen mid-clap as they cheer for you. Everyone, except for you, has large black Xs over their faces.

The pounding of your heart seems to vibrate through your entire body. You can hear the rushing thump in your ears and feel it tingling in your toes. A cold sweat prickles along the back of your neck.

There’s a stack of papers sitting on the remnants of the couch. From where you’re standing, you can see the top page has a format like one of your pieces for the Informant. Your fingers tremble as you scoop up the stack of papers and bring it closer to see.

There is a yellow sticky note tacked to the top. In a blocky scrawl, you read: ‘You have until the end of business on Friday to publish this. If you change anything about it, I’ll kill them all. If you don’t publish it, I’ll kill them all. If you go to the cops, I’ll kill them all. You ruined my life, it’s time for me to ruin yours.’

Under the sticky note, in large, bold print across the top of the paper is your full legal name. Below that, in the place of a subhead is ’The Monster Behind The Mask’. The first few lines have nausea rolling through your stomach. 

‘This may come as a surprise to my readers; I have a confession to make. I’m a fraud. Everything I represent is a lie. I’m no better than the people I feature in my writing. I take other people’s lives and break them apart. I turn people into monsters. But, what you don’t realize is that I’m the real monster.

I ruin lives.

Let me enlighten you…’

You trail off reading, shaking your head at the absurdity. Who wrote this? Your fingers flick through the pages, taking in block after block, ridiculous claim after ridiculous claim until you catch sight of a large image formatted between the columns. You flip back and spread the papers out, taking in the black-and-white scanner-copy image.

It’s a police report. Your own police report. A police report that’s been redacted, sealed, and eventually expunged. Only, here it is, plain and utterly whole. The blurb under the photo indicates that it’s evidence of how much of a monster you are and how you’ve been ruining lives since you were seventeen.

“No. No, no, no,” you mutter, the pages slipping from your fingers and fluttering to the floor in front of the sofa. Your movements are stiff and jerky as you pull your phone out. Your finger hovers over Hoseok’s contact. Blinking away the sudden tears blurring your vision, your gaze snaps to the giant spray-painted warning on the wall. You can’t risk it. So, you click a different contact instead; one you know is still a risk, but a more calculated one.

“Two calls in one day? You’re not drinking tequila again, are you? It’s only Thursday, babe, that’s more of a Friday venture,” Enola’s voice chirps brightly through the phone.

You swallow hard, tearing your gaze away from the wall of horrors in your office. “E,” you begin but have to stop to suck in a calming breath. It’s not that effective. Your voice quivers as you try again, “Enola, I think I’m in trouble.”

“Hey, whoa, what’s going on?” The change in her demeanor is instant. 

“Someone was in my apartment. There’s all this…stuff. Threats, uh…pictures. I don’t— I don’t know what to do,” you babble, describing everything but the image in the printed manuscript that’s mocking you from the floor.

You can hear Enola shuffling around, paper crumpling, and drawers slamming shut. “Send me photos of everything. I’m texting Jungkook right now, I’ll have him come get you.”

“I can’t leave, E. What if they come back? I need to catch them. There’s too much at stake here.” You pause, hearing Enola muttering to herself and the soft tapping of her fingers on her phone screen, probably texting her brother. “There’s something else.” Enola doesn’t respond, too busy texting. “Enola. Are you listening? I said there’s something else.” Still, she’s quiet. “Enola!” you snap.

“What? Fuck, what? Sorry, JK’s being a bit of a shithead right now.”

“There’s something else. And…it involves you in a way.” Your heart beats so hard you feel lightheaded, so you slip down until you’re kneeling on the floor, slumped against the edge of the sofa. “Somehow, whoever this is, they uncovered the accident report…the one from graduation night,” you whisper.

A pregnant pause stretches after your words. Finally, Enola sighs and clears her throat. “Mine?” she asks quietly.

“It’s just mine,” you confirm.

“Okay,” determination enters her voice as she shifts into professional FBI-profiler mode. “Jungkook will be there soon. Go lock your door, and make sure your windows are all shut. You still have the mace I gifted you for Christmas, right? Get it. Don’t open the door for anyone except my brother. I know it’s been a while since you’ve seen him, so you need to ask him for the passphrase. You know which one I’m talking about. I never thought we’d have to use it, but this seems like a good time that we should. Do you understand me?”

“Yeah,” you manage to get out between sharp breaths.

Enola spits another colorful curse. “I’m supposed to leave in an hour heading to Singapore. I’m going to ask Connor if I can drop off this case—“

“No, E! Don’t. No. You can’t do that. I’ll send over photos, show you everything, but you can’t do that. Your job is entirely too important and you know as well as I do that Connor won’t grant it anyway. It’s fine. Your brother will help. He’s good right?” She grunts an acknowledgement. “It’ll be fine. I’m just a little spooked right now, that’s all. You said it yourself, my job gets me into trouble sometimes. I’m sure this is just someone trying to get revenge because I exposed them in the Informant. No big deal, I’ve dealt with worse.” What you won’t admit, though, is how utterly terrifying and just how much of a big deal it is that someone has somehow uncovered your juvenile record. Which is just one step away from Enola’s, and that scares you even more. If this actually gets out, you and she both can kiss your reputations, as you know them, goodbye. “I just got to get ahead of whoever this is, put a stop to it before it gets out of hand.”

“Keep me posted. Swear it!” 

“I swear,” you promise before saying goodbye and disconnecting the call.

You give one last look at the intimidating display on the wall before yanking open your desk drawer and grabbing the other two drawings. You toss them onto the dining table and make quick work of checking all the windows and the doors to your apartment. Everything’s locked; as it always is. How someone got in without breaking something is lost on you.

While you wait for Enola’s brother, you check the text message he sent you earlier. It’s simple, just letting you know that he has some equipment for you and wondering when’s a good time to come over. You don’t bother to respond, knowing Enola already spoke with him and he’s coming over tonight regardless.

Thinking about what you can do in the meantime, you dial the extension for the front desk downstairs. Henry answers on the second ring.

“North Highland Park Tower, this is Henry. How may I help you?”

“Hey Hen, it’s me.”

“Ah, my favorite writer in 3C. What can I do for you tonight?”

You clear your throat. “Well, firstly, I just wanted to let you know I am expecting a visitor. It’s Enola’s brother, Jungkook. He should be by soon. I was also wondering if there was anything you’d noticed in the last few days. Maybe an odd name on the guest list, unusual people hanging out in the hallways, faces that aren’t familiar to you?”

Henry hums. “Is everything okay? Should there be something weird like that?”

It’s tempting to lie to him, but you feel bad enough as it is if your work is bringing potentially dangerous people into your building. So, you deign to give him as much of the truth as you can. “I’m not sure, really. It could just be kids in the building playing pranks, but I’ve gotten some weird presents left at my door the last few days.”

“Do I need to make a call to the locals?” Henry immediately questions. You can hear the seriousness in his voice. All it would take is one word and he’d have the PD here in a matter of minutes. “Damn kids can’t get away with scaring the community. I won’t allow it.”

“No, no, Henry. It’s nothing like that. I just wanted to see if there was anything you’d noticed is all. The things on my door have been harmless—,“ they, in truth, are, “—but if it is one of the kids in the building, I’d like to just have a chat with their parents. That’s all.”

You can practically hear the wheels turning in Henry’s head. “Yeah, okay. Nothing sticks out for me off the top of my head, but I’ll take a look back through our feeds and logs just to be sure.”

“Thanks, Henry, I appreciate it. If you find anything, just give me a ring. I swear if it’s something more, I’ve got Detective Jung on speed dial,” you put as much sincerity into your words as possible. You hope he accepts it and only does what you’ve asked. If he gets the cops involved, you’re not sure if your latest fan will care much whether it was you that called them or not.

There isn’t much more to do other than send things to Enola. You take a deep breath before heading back into your office. It’s hard to try and ignore the severity of the situation as you snap photos and send them off to her via the secure network she has set up for you. Her working for the FBI has its perks.

You get your laptop set up and begin compiling a spreadsheet of possible suspects. The number of criminals you’ve written about over the years is fairly large, but you’re able to reduce the pool based on a few factors. It’s safe to assume any of the individuals that have graced your column and are incarcerated, can be ticked off the list. That eliminates a good portion of the list. Though, you know it’s possible for criminals to coordinate from the inside. So, you backtrack and just divide that group into its own lists. All of this might be for nothing, but you feel better doing something other than just waiting.

It’s less likely that it’s someone in your building. The threat still waiting in your office is proof enough for that. That’s far too complex for a couple of jerkwad kids to pull off. Not only would they have to have the skills to dig up your juvie record, but they’d also have to be able to unseal it, purge the redactions, and then compile the manuscript. You don’t have nearly enough confidence in the abilities of teens to be able to pull that off. Plus, the biggest, glaring factor of all— motive, they have no motive.

For all the work you’re putting in right now, you’re not even sure how much will be worth the effort. You put a pot of coffee on and change into a pair of leggings and a comfortable t-shirt. It’s only about an hour after you discover the message in your office when there’s an abrupt knock on your door.

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◅ Back to Master List ©️       2022-12-22   ColorMePurplex2

[jacquesthepigeon]

Okay, as someone who found movie Adrien lacking, I'll share my two thoughts: I enjoyed a lot of movie Adrien's elements and scenes, but it felt like we were missing the kindness that defined him in Origins, which is what really got me interested in the love square.

On the civilian side, the library scene is far weaker than the umbrella one, going from an act of vulnerability to an act of basic human decency. Marinette isn't falling for something special, she's falling for the first guy to be nice to her. The library scene also doesn't make Adrien feel anything positive for Marinette whereas the umbrella scene ended with him calling her a friend. If this was the start to a slower approach to romance, then that wouldn't be an issue, but Adrienette is given minimal screentime, so they didn't actually take the slower approach. The library scene is all we get to establish Marinette's crush, so it needed to be stronger or Adrienette needed more screentime.

Similarly, there's no scene where Chat Noir encourages Ladybug and builds her up. For example, I think the scene where they meet and he calls her his sidekick is mostly good, but it should have been tweaked so that he's bragging to make her feel better (and to show off). Like "don't worry, I've got this hero thing in the bag! Just follow my lead and you'll be fine! You can be my sidekick!" About the only "nice" thing that Chat Noir does is try to woo her and follow her lead post-crush, all of which was cute, but nothing compares to him being the reason that she was able to stand-up to Papillon post Stoneheart.

So, yeah, I wouldn't say that he's worse than series Adrien, I just think that he's missing a scene that establishes a core element if the character. He feels far more generic than series Adrien when series Adrien is at his best, but far more solid than series Adrien when series Adrien is at his worst.

Ok yeah that’s fair

I did find his taciturn behavior a bit off putting at first but figured the trade-off was worth it

The adri//nette def needed more development to establish similar soulmateism like the lady//noir side but alas, this is not the felidrien from the old bibs :(