#my dad has been on my case about it so that i can practice learning filipino

[plant-cell-park]

i need someone to push me to watch maria clara at ibarra

[fashion-runways]

okay it's been over a year and i keep saying i'm going to make a new post and it's too exhausting to even think about the whole thing so i keep pushing it-- here's the link to the old post if you want a more detailed thing i wrote back then.

anyway, a year ago, out of the blue, our apartment got raided by the police, they broke our front door, they broke a bunch of shit inside, they took a bunch of our stuff, they barely gave us answers or an explanation, they took my dad and made it seem like he would have to sign some stuff and answer some questions and come back, but it's been over a year (since june 2022) and he hasn't come back, and his case is still up in the air. they're barely working on it. they didn't pay for all the shit they broke, they haven't returned all the shit they took, we had to spend a lot of money on that, i had to take a loan to buy a new computer so i could keep working and studying, on top of spending even more money on basic needs for my dad in jail and lawyers, plus blood pressure and anxiety medications, plus he's old and he was scheduled an eye surgery that he obviously couldn't go to so he's like, practically blind in one eye now, also new clothes for him to wear there (there's a bunch of rules for that), honestly i already lost track of how many things we had to pay for. it's been incredibly stressful and it still is even now that we've gotten used to it. he's been detained for a year for something that they still don't even know if he did and the case is barely moving, i don't know if they're like... i don't know, waiting for the man to die in there since he's already old so they don't have to admit they don't have enough proof for all the mess they made? i don't know. like i said back then, please don't ask me for details on the case or show up in my inbox trying to play tiktok true crime and guess what he did/didn't do. it happened a few times and it's extremely triggering, please don't. please.

this blog is basically my job. it's my primary source of income, i don't have anything else, no matter how many interviews i go to, in the country/city i live and in the state our economy is, if you don't have contacts it's impossible to get a job. i'm always signing up to free programs to learn new things while i don't have a job, try to make my cv bigger, but it doesn't matter. if you don't have someone saying “please hire my friend/family member” or you don't have 500 years of experience, they won't. so like i said, donations people make to this blog are how me and my mom (and my pets) stay afloat. it's what we use to pay for food, general groceries, transportation, electricity, wifi, water, gas, health insurance, stuff for my dad in jail, meds for my mom who has diabetes, food and meds for my pets. i don't go out much, i haven't gotten a haircut in a year, i barely spend money in anything that makes me happy except once in a blue moon when i stop feeling guilty lmao i had a redbubble account also that helped a little too, but last week it got suspended without an explanation as i was uploading new designs, so i don't even have that now. i made a new account on teepublic, but all my designs in high quality are locked behind redbubble and i can't even log into because of the suspension. it's... complicated, and it's a lot, but it is what it is.

i'm always keeping an eye out on new collections, new designers, new cool things. like i said, i love fashion, i studied fashion, and i know a lot of you use this blog as inspiration whether it's for yourselves or for your art, so i don't want to post all similar stuff all the time, i want to post all kinds of styles and brands as much as i can. which is why when i say if you like this blog, if you want to support me, sending even the smallest amount of money helps me keep going. living in latin america, the exchange rate is kind of insane, so truly any amount of money donated helps. unfortunately, i never stop needing money to survive and help keep my family afloat, but in the past year more than ever.

as usual, my kofi link is this one: https://ko-fi.com/fashionrunways and my (new) teepublic link is this one: https://www.teepublic.com/user/dinah-lance. if my redbubble account gets reinstated, i'll add that link eventually too. and as always, thanks for loving this blog and for loving fashion like i love fashion, even when i post crazy looking stuff, and thanks for helping. you have no idea how much your support helps, but it really does, i don't even know if i'd be alive right now if it wasn't for this blog.

[watermelonsugacry]

Could you do a blurb showing how Harry and 1dbandmate!yn reacted over the years when asked in interviews if they were a couple?? please 🙏

Always Asked

A/N: been in a writing funk lately but i'm happy i got this one done since i miss writing and posting to you all!! 💚

SUMMARY: Snippets of interviews over the years from when YN and Harry were asked if they were dating. (3.4k)

GENRE: 1dbandmate!yn, famous!yn

SINCE 2010 masterlist

2011:

Never in a million years did YN ever think her dream career would start so soon. It’s only been a year since she auditioned for the XFactor and now she’s sitting at a table next to her bandmates as hundreds of fans go down the line to get a copy of their freshly signed album. 

With copious amounts of screaming comes along an abundance of questions thrown at the teenagers. Most of the time, it’s YN giving the screaming fans a beautiful smile, asking them how they are, and thanking them for their kind words before passing the signed CD case to Harry. With all the excitement in the air, she feels like she’s truly living the pop star lifestyle she’d seen many others live out.

“Hiya, love,” YN smiles at the preteen girl who’s practically vibrating with excitement at seeing the famous band. She also gives a polite greeting to the supportive dad of the young girl who has his hands on his daughter’s shoulders. “How are you? I love your shirt.”

She compliments, smiling at seeing the young girl wearing a shirt with YN’s face on it. 

“My dad got it for me for my birthday!” The little fan beams.

“Did he?” YN animatedly gasps with a smile. “Well, it was nice of him to take you over here, yeah?”

She signs the CD case with a heart over her name before sliding it over to Harry. His fingers brush over hers and the two of them catch each other’s gaze. A smile tugs on their lips before looking away just as quickly. 

“Are you two dating?” The young girl practically screams out, her eyes bouncing back and forth excitedly between YN and Harry. 

The two teenagers tense up, thrown off by the question in such a crowded place. Their management team is still media-training them and while they’ve learned so much already, they’re still getting used to taking what they’ve learned out into the field.

YN and Harry give each other a look, already knowing the answer but searching in one another’s eyes for maybe a smidge of something more.

“Lilly!” The dad scolds before letting out a chuckle. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be,” YN shakes her head with a smile, hoping it's convincing enough to not cause any suspicion. “Sorry Lilly, but Harry and I aren’t dating because quite frankly—” She beckons the little fan closer, cupping her mouth but still being loud so her bandmate can hear, “—he has cooties.”

Harry’s immediately furrowing his brows together and lets out a long and playful, “Hey!”

“Ew!” Lilly laughs, seeming satisfied with that answer before waving goodbye and walking towards the rest of the band.

Before they can dwell on what just happened, thankfully the next fan shuffles over for their own interaction and signed copy.

2012:

The band is at their first Brits Awards show and needless to say, they all got a little tipsy after their win. Their team didn’t even have time to give them a snack or water bottle to help sober them up a little bit before their backstage press interviews.

“Harry, how will you guys be celebrating tonight?” A journalist asks from the crowd.

“Erm,” Harry giggles to himself and it makes YN tipsily follow from her spot next to him. The hand that isn't gripping onto their award goes to cover her smile. “I think we’re just gonna hang out and stuff.”

“YN? Is there any lucky man whom you will be celebrating with?” Another voice in the sea of reporters asks.

“Nope,” YN raises her eyes with a tipsy smile and a slow shake of her head. She shakes her thumb towards her boys with a click of her tongue. “Just these lads.”

“Any lucky lad in particular? Perhaps a curly-headed one standing next to you?”

Almost as if it was planned, the two teenagers comically look beside each other, cranking their necks in playful search of who the intrusive lady was referring to.

“Me?” Harry dramatically questions, pointing to his chest with a bright, open-mouthed, dimpled smile gracing his face.

“Well, I mean he is part of the band, is he not?” YN sassily purses her lips together, her media-training to retain her “good girl” image slipping out of her alcohol induced brain. 

Thankfully, before anything could be escalated further by the tipsy girl, the intrusive press, or the snickering boys, a member from their management team instructs the audience to move onto another person.

2013:

“You guys have known each other for what seems like forever now and your bond with the rest of the guys is so strong...” 

YN reaches forward for a sip from her glass of water on the panel table in her seat in between Harry and Niall. It’s been a long week for the band as they do press for their new movie, This Is Us. They’ve been thrown left and right with interviews that YN can’t help but already be done with the repetitiveness of some of the questions.  

“So then we’re all clearly curious to know if you and Harry are dating?”

“Nope,” YN pops the ‘P’ and shakes her head as if her actions were automatically programmed to respond in that way. She casually waves her finger between the two boys beside her, “But him and Niall are though.” 

The crowd of press people laugh and chuckle as they see Naill gasp and Harry raise his eyebrows in playful shock.

“I mean, you kinda pointed it out,” YN puts on her media-trained smile good enough to win an Oscar. “These lads are like my brothers and our bond is so strong because we see each other more like family than anything else. I see them more as annoying than someone I'd rather date, to be honest,” she forces out a light laugh. 

“Plus, as YN so kindly pointed out,” Harry leans on his elbows on the table as he looks to his crush next to him. YN can see his dimple dig into his cheek as he fights off a smirk. “M’happily in a committed relationship with Niall.”

Harry doesn’t take his eyes off of his bandmate as he leans back into his seat. He watches as she tucks her chin into her chest, her fingers rubbing over her lips to cover her giggle as the rest of the room breaks out in commotion.

2014:

“Can we assume that the rock on your finger is from a certain curly-headed lad?” The woman who’s interviewing them for the band’s new book Who We Are excitedly asks. 

The band are all sat on an L-shaped couch as they discuss the contents of the hard cover book. Sat in between Zayn and Niall, YN purposely avoids her gaze from Harry as she answers.

“No,” YN lets out a forced chuckle as she looks down to fidget with the diamond ring on her finger. Anyone who has looked at more than three pictures of YN can tell that her favorite pieces of jewelry are her assortment of rings along her fingers. But only true fans know that part of her liking to the small jewelry is to help her fidget with them when she has anxiety. It’s an odd feeling however that the newly gifted one has been the cause of her increase in nerves. “It’s um, from me boyfriend—well, fiancé now—Matthew. Harry is like a brother to me so that would be quite weird.” 

“Of course! I was only teasing, love.” The woman laughs with an over-exaggerated smile, clearly disappointed in the answer she was given. “Congratulations to you both.”

“Thank you,” YN forces a smile, still twisting at the shiny ring that sticks out like a sore thumb.

2015:

“YN.”

“James.” She says with the same amount of playful seriousness, the audience in front of them laughs along. As the date of the band’s long-awaited hiatus comes closer and closer, their good friend James Corden interviews them in the same location where they filmed the music video for Story of My Life. 

“Harold,” the host directs his attention to the band member sitting next to her.

The fans in the crowd only giggle in giddiness even further as Harry playfully throws a hand up in confusion with what the fans call his ‘frog’ smile. 

“Now, we are all truly devastated when we heard the news that you and your long-time partner had called it quits a couple of weeks ago.” The audience laughs when James comically shakes his head no. YN even lets out a laugh when she sees the fans in the audience cheer at the news of her new relationship status. Despite the support she feels from the fans, it doesn’t necessarily calm the nerves at why the host brought the topic up in the first place. “Now we’re also all wondering if this may have possibly opened up, I don’t know, an opportunity for you to seek something with another lad?”

“Um,” YN lazily holds her microphone to her lips as she gives James the news that will hopefully shut down the conversation. “I think m’gonna just focus on myself for a bit. Yeh know, take a break from dating and all that.”

The room breaks out into chuckles when the host makes noises like he doesn’t believe her. He wags his interview cards in the air as he says, "I mean, both of your writing credits on some love songs tell me otherwise..."

Truthfully, the two friends can't deny that logic. They've either individually or co-wrote a plethora of love songs...that may or may not have been about each other. But will they ever admit that to a room full of their fans who have been shipping them since their XFactor days? Hello no.

“Well, the beauty that YN and I see in music is that songs are always up for interpretation," Harry interjects. "They can mean anything you want them to be, in any sort of scenario.”

“Yeah, like, lyrics don’t always necessarily have to come from a place of experience,” YN adds on, professionally keeping her voice from wavering in nervousness. “It certainly helps but that’s not always the case. Especially now.”

She can’t help but laugh along with the rest of the crowd as James holds an expression like he doesn’t believe a word they said.

“Okay, fine. Deny it all you want,” James puts his hands up defensively. “I just...I don’t know, I just think that this could really be Something Great.”

The room of fans (and die hard ynrry shippers) squeal and scream out in a mixture of excitement and disbelief from his use of the One Direction songs that are heavily speculated to be about YN and Harry. 

“Whatever, it’s your guy’s decision at the End of the Day,” James continues nonchalantly, trying to hide the smile that shows that he knows exactly what he’s doing. 

Fans’ eyes bounce back and forth between the two band members in question. They see as YN has her hands clasped together on her crossed legs, biting the inside of her cheek to keep her witty comments to herself. Harry, on the other hand, leans his elbow on his knee with his index finger over his smirk. He tries to cover up his chuckle with a cough to his fist before pushing back his long curls. 

“All we want is for you guys to live Happily ever after, is all.”

2017:

“Now, both of you little sneaky sneaks went to Jamaica together to make his album. Come on, tell me I’m wrong,” Nick Grimshaw teases, wiggling his fingers in a beckoning motion.

The two were currently on BBC Radio with their good friend that they’ve known since their days in the band. Dropping their first solo albums in the same week caused their fan bases to go into a frantic frenzy. The two have a full day ahead of them as their record labels and management teams paired the two up for a day jam-packed with press and interviews together.

“You are not wrong,” Harry laughs, adjusting the chunky headphones over his ears. He’s already rolled up his white button-up sleeves and discarded his picnic table-looking blazer to lay on the back of his chair.

“Sneaky sneaks?” YN chuckles next to him, leaning her elbows on the counter and moving her hips to rotate her swiveling seat from side to side.

“Well, I only say that because you guys are obviously dating now, right?”

“Do girl and guy best friends always have to be dating?” YN easily swerves the question back to the radio host.

“Well,” Grimmy tilts his head from side to side. “Not necessarily, but wouldn’t that be a good story? For your future kiddos perhaps?”

YN and Harry bark out a laugh.

“Sorry, m’getting ahead of myself. Maybe you lads would want to save that for your wedding day instead.”

“Can I swear on the radio?” YN playfully yet genuinely asks the host which makes Harry giggle.

“But I mean, what are your fans—and quite frankly, the rest of the world—supposed to think when a good majority of the songs on his album are about you, Miss Two Ghosts?” Nick teases with a wiggle of his eyebrow.

YN’s jaw humorously drops, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips as a nervous laugh threatens to escape. The two knew that they would get poked and pried with questions and accusations like this since their trip to Jamaica. There’s no use in trying to deny their close relationship with one another, spending more time with one another than any of their fellow band members since the start of the hiatus. 

Unable to quickly come up with an explanation, being so caught off guard, she turns to the only other person she can trust. 

“Jenny?” YN playfully calls for her manager who’s behind the glass window of the radio studio, leaning forward to look at her despite Harry in the way. 

“Help me, Jeffery,” Harry playfully pleads to his manager as well.

“No, no Jeffery. Jenny, get back in your chair, young lady.” Nick points out for the listeners who can’t see what’s currently happening. “Alright, I’ll stop, I’ll stop,” The host waves his hands, seeing the two visually calm down at the news. “Now, I’ll just play the one Harry wrote about YN. This is Two Ghosts!”

Harry playfully yells out an “Oh, no!” as he pushes himself away from the desk. YN lets out a humored scream at the same time, taking off her chunky radio headphones and tossing them onto the desk. 

2020:

“Okay, a big question that I’ve been getting on Twitter since it was announced that the two of you would be on here today,” Roman Kemp waves a hand in front of him at the Capital FM Breakfast Radio headquarters as he looks onto the two pop stars in front of him on the Zoom call. The couple can be seen in two separate rooms: Harry in a naturally lit room while YN sits against one of the brick walls in her bedroom.

Harry has his purple robe on that his girlfriend gifted him a couple of years ago, looking as comfy as ever since he doesn’t have to get dressed up to go outside for anything lately due to being on lockdown. 

YN on the other hand, didn’t want to miss the opportunity to get dolled up. Well, at least from the waist up. She wears one of her silk button-up blouses with her last name embroidered on the left chest, her hair neatly done up in a slick ponytail and her make-up nicely done. When she got complimented on her look, she clumsily lifted her leg up to show off her heart-decorated, fluffy pajama pants.

“And I feel like both of your fan bases combined would come out of quarantine to quite literally murder me if I don’t ask you guys this...” YN and Harry keep a mutual face on as they wait to hear what the host has to say. “We all know that you guys are an official couple now, but are you guys physically staying together at the moment? Like, are you guys living together or at the same house or...?”

The couple takes a second to process the intimate question. As Harry parts his lips to answer, he’s interrupted by his girlfriend speaking first. 

“Y’know, we’re kind of tired of getting questions like this. I don’t think it’s really appropriate for other people to know about that kind of stuff,” The crease between YN’s eyebrows becomes more apparent and her shoulders move sharply after letting out a deep sigh.

“Oh, I-I’m so sorry if I offended you guys—” The radio host quickly begins to retract.

“M’sorry but I think m’actually gonna log off now. Erm, thank you for having us.” YN curtly nods before the host and Harry’s faces fill the screen, both with wide eyes at the unexpected reaction from the go-happy pop star.

“Wait, did that really just happen?” Roman and the other two interviewers are deers in headlights, his eyes bouncing around the screen to make sure what just took place. 

“I think so,” Harry sighs. “It’s just a sensitive topic for us, y’know. I can’t really blame her for what she did,” He professionally hides his smile as he hears the quick pad of footsteps coming down her spiral staircase.

“I really meant no harm, it’s just—”

“It’s just really hard to keep our private life private, you know?” Harry drags on with a deep sigh. “And it's just really hard for us to have to answer things like this. Like, we don’t really know what you guys expect us to do when...” Harry’s dimples dig into his cheeks, a boyish giggle comes tumbling past his lips when YN peaks her head sideways in front of his laptop camera.

“YN!” Romans scolds with a bright smile, infinitely relieved he didn’t just make enemies with the world’s favorite female pop star. He dramatically throws a hand over his heart.

“Sorry, I’m sorry! It was just too good and Ro, I think you’re the only one that would be able to handle a joke like that.” YN laughs as she slides in close to her comfy-looking boyfriend.

“So I’m assuming this confirms my previous question?” The host asks excitedly.

“Yeah,” Harry smiles fondly at his love, discreetly wrapping an arm around her waist that’s low enough to not be shown on camera. “We’ve been living at YN’s place in LA for a couple of weeks now. And yeah, it’s been fun.”

2022:

In a full black suit, Harry is escorted to the next interviewer on the red carpet for the premiere of My Policeman. After a couple of initial questions, the eager woman asks, “Last thing before you get whisked away, on behalf of the fandom and everyone else on this planet, we just want to send a massive amount of love to you and YN.”

“Thank you very much,” He nods, putting a hand over his heart and trying his hardest to keep the growing smile on his face at bay. 

“And we are all just dying to know,” She takes a quick, excited glance back to the camera. “If you’re going to drop the big question soon?”

Harry can’t help but huff out a laugh, the kind where his dimples dig into his cheeks and the crows feet appear next to his eyes. If they only knew that YN kept the ring he gave her—the ring that signifies their promise to become husband and wife on their anniversary—at home for the sake of privacy and for this very reason. 

“Um,” He looks up in fake contemplation before giving her a cheeky shrug. “I dunno. Maybe. Maybe not. Who knows?”

“Well, best of luck to you both.”

After being escorted away, the camera doesn’t stop filming Harry as he goes over to stand next to his fiancée on the red carpet. Although the camera can’t pick up what YN says to Emma Corin that makes the actress laugh, her beaming smile turns to Harry when she feels his hand on her back. He can’t hold back from planting a loving peck on her cheek before the two are escorted to their next section on the red carpet. 

2023:

On a show in Cardiff, Harry adjusts a flag on his shoulder as he walks around the catwalk on stage. As he begins to sing Satellite, he makes a stop to sing to a group by the barricade. 

It’s nothing new to YN and Harry’s respective shows when fans bring signs with something on it to get the artists’ attention. Honestly, it’s become one of the parts of the show they look forward to the most.

So when Harry’s eyes move over to a newly raised sign that says ‘shag?’ on it, he breaks out into a smirk. Part of the fun of when fans bring signs is that there’s always a handful that asks these sorts of questions: Are you single? Can I have your number? Are you dating? 

It’s not so much the content written on the signs that makes the interaction so enjoyable; it’s the response that he gives. 

Because all Harry does is break out into that dimpled, love sick smile that YN can’t get enough of and happily points to his wedding band.

.

.

Taglist:

@ashtongivesmebutterflies @cacapeepee

(let me know if you want to be added to the taglist 💚)

[starlightshadowsworld]

Bsd where Atsushi is one of Oda's children.

Oda survives because Dazai gets there in time and shoots Guilde himself. It's not till much later that they learn one of the kids is missing.

Oda found Atsushi after he'd escaped Shibusawa and was in the city. After the Dragons head incident so Oda doesn't know which Orphanage Atsushi came from.

Oda is hopeful he can find him and Dazai promises him that they will.

That was 4 years ago. Both have since joined the Detective Agency. Odasaku is out accompanying Ranpo out on some case out the city when Atsushi shows up in Yokohama.

Dazai doesn't recognise Atsushi because any pictures Oda had of his kids were destroyed. And they didn't meet prior.

Atsushi knows of him, and is suprised Dazai's in the Agency. He doesn't say anything, given no one else knows about Dazai's past and Atsushi doesn't want to upend that.

That, and the Headmaster had sewed seeds of doubt in Atsushi's mind about whether his dad ever loved him.

"If he cared for you so much, why did he leave you? Your birth parents abandoned you, so did he. The world has abandoned you Atsushi, you were not made to be loved."

So Atsushi's afraid if Dazai knows who he is, he'll be dropped from the Agency.

Dazai is sus, because hmm random orphan child who has a father in Yokohama. But he isn't from here... And he has the same name as my friends missing child.

Hmm????

He could outright ask him. But where's the fun in that? That, and Atsushi shuts down whenever his past has been asked about.

And Dazai doesn't want to upset him. He also doesn't want to call Odasaku until he knows for certain.

It all comes ahead when Kunikida makes a comment about Ranpo and Odasaku's case being over and that they would be heading back in a few days.

And Atsushi looks terrified. He practically runs out of the building and to the dorms. Dazai goes after him, concerned at his reaction. He figured with how lonely Atsushi clearly was that he'd be escatic.

But he's terrified.

"Dazai I... I can't talk right now I have to go."

Atsushi looked so small and afraid, clutching a bag of his meager possessions. "And you can, I'm not stopping you. But I'd like to talk first. If you still want to go, I won't stop you."

That calms Atsushi down a bit to sit down. "I'm guessing Ranpo's not the reason you ran out of there." Said Dazai. Atsushi shook his head, looking down in shame.

"I know Odasaku, he's a great friend of mine. We go way back in fact and I can tell you quite confidently that he's not a threat to you."

"I'm not scared of that..." Said Atsushi, he's given up hiding what Dazai has obviously figured out. "I don't want him to hate me, more than he already does."

"Why do you think he hates you?"

Atsushi looks at Dazai, tears in his eyes. But Atsushi won't cry, because kids who have been abandoned by there parents don't have the luxury of crying.

"Because I failed him. He... He went to his job and these men showed up..." Atsushi hugged his knees, the memory painful to this day.

"We all got put in a van it blew up. The tiger saved me but I couldn't save the others, not Kyousuke not Sakura...."

He couldn't save any of them, only himself.

"I got up, I went as far as I could before I passed out from the pain. I woke up in a hospital. The Headmaster was there, he took me back to the Orphanage. And that da-... Oda had abandoned me in the wreckage."

So that explained that. Odasaku had never legally adopted the kids, so of course they called the Orphanage.

Dazai felt a unique mixture of anger and sadness. Anger that Atsushi suffered, that Odasaku had suffered. Anger at that Orphanage and if Odasaku didn't kill that man Dazai would.

And sadness. Sadness that Atsushi had suffered, that Odasaku had suffered and Atsushi was so afraid Odasaku wouldn't want him.

"4"

"4?"Asked Atsushi confused. "4 years, that's how long Odasaku has been looking for you. He's been searching for you day and night since he found out you might be alive."

Dazai had never seen Odasaku so distraught as the day his kids were killed. He'd have walked to his own death.

But hearing Atsushi could be alive, that sliver of hope had ignited life back into Odasaku's eyes. Maybe that's partly why they'd joined the Agency to begin with.

Dazai looked Atsushi in the eye, needing him to believe him. "Odasaku would never knowingly abandon you. He thought you were dead, he ran off guns blazing for revenge. And you did not fail him."

Atsushi processes of all of this. Hope ignited in his heart along with the fear. He wanted so desperately to believe it was true.

Dazai said his piece and waited a while before asking if he could tell him. Atsushi nodded, putting his things away as Dazai stepped outside to make a phone call.

"I've found him."

Oda came barrelling into the room a lot quicker than he should've been able to. The moment his gaze found Atsushi, tears welled up in his eyes.

"You're alive."

The sheer relief in his voice bought tears to Atsushi's eyes, because Dazai was right. He wasn't abandoned, he wasn't hated or forgotten.

"Dad!"

Odasaku caught Atsushi as he ran into his arms. He sobbed into his embrace, and Odasaku wasn't much better. Hugging his boy, his son in his arms for the first time in years.

"I'm here, I'm here. I will never, never let you go again. Atsushi I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry." Sobbed Odasaku. "I thought you'd hate me, that you didn't want me." Said Atsushi and Odasaku shook his head, running a hand through his hair.

"Never, I could never hate you Atsushi."

Dazai watches them with a soft smile before leaving. They'd have a lot to talk about, but for now they were together again and that's all that mattered.

He had another phone call to make.

"Dazai, is everything alright?"

"Everything fine Ango, more than alright actually." Said Dazai, and as if reading his mind Ango smiled. "He found him, didn't he?"

"He did, which brings me to my call" the smile on Dazai's face shattered to pieces. "I need you to find the bastard responsible for taking Atsushi away."

"Tell me what you know so far. We'll go from there."

The Headmaster and all those involved was going to pay for this.

The Guild would probably crumble too the moment Odasaku found out about Atsushi's bounty. But that was for another day.

[spider-jaysart]

Okay soooo, first time I'm doing something like this, but I wanna introduce a fave oc of mines today that I've been working on for a longtime now :)

Her name is Nadja Al Ghul-Wayne-Kent and she's a Damijon kid

(Click for better quality)

@camo-wolf @paladin-of-nerd-fandom65

The name Nadja means "hope" in Arabic. My very dear friend @theredheaded-stuff was the one who helped me pick it. And her hero name is Super Canyon, which is inspired by the Canyon Wren bird

(More under the cut)

Backstory:

After being inspired by the story of how Kon was created, a secret group of no good scientists, who just love causing chaos with many of their inventions, decided one day to create a mixed clone of both Damian and Jon, thinking they can do better than Lex did, so they collected both of the boys DNA's after one of their recent battles in public and got to work. Once their experiment was supposed to be done, they saw that their machine had actually created a baby girl instead of a grown, powerful clone like they had wanted, so they were ready to dispose of her as a failed subject, but were suddenly stopped just on time by Damian and Jon who broke into the place and kicked their butts after finding out that a recently committed crime they were investigating was caused by them. When they were done, the boys found Nadja and were surprised to find out she's a clone related to them both. They decided to take her with them and made her their daughter to raise together after that.

Personality:

She's helpful, stubborn, is as intelligent as Damian is, friendly but also tough when she needs to be, observant, sometimes a little too honest about things but doesn't always mean it as rude, courageous (a trait that can be pretty helpful sometimes, but also get her into really big trouble during dangerous situations too), a prankster, and very protective of others, especially her loved ones

Abilities and skills:

She has the usual Kryptonian abilities, which are flying, super strength, superhearing, superspeed, superbreath, ice breath, invulnerablity, x-ray vision, and laser vision that's purple instead of the usual red (because Lois has purple eyes, so it's something unique that was passed onto her that way). Sometimes they don't always work though and can accidentally get out of hand too since she's still growing and learning, but Jon aways tries his best to help her get better at using and controlling them. Nadja also uses many concentrating tips from Damian too for improvement, like meditating for example and other things like that, and he helps her practice them

And because she's half Kryptonian, she also has a couple of unlocked special abilities of her own too, which is invisiblity, the ability to phase through walls and objects, plus the power to also transfer the heat of her laser vision into the palm of her hands to burn who or whatever she touches and she can also let it absorb her whole body too if she wants, which makes her even more untouchable and at the same time lets her release a strong fiery blast around herself onto enemies or incoming threats (her body glows completely purple whenever she does this and if it's just her hands, the same happens to them too). Nadja hasn't been able to properly master these special powers yet though, only one of them, which is the invisiblity one

For skills, thanks to teachings from Damian, plus Talia whenever she visits her, Nadja knows how to use a sword and fight well in combat in case her powers aren't working the way she urgently needs them to during patrols and missions

Random facts:

She calls Damian Baba and Jon Dad.

She calls Clark "Grampops" and Bruce "Grampbats". For Talia, she calls her "Grandmother" and for Lois, she calls her "Grandmama".

Her best friend is her same age Cousin Dick II, the Son of her much older Cousin Jake Grayson and his Wife Meredith Robinson. In the Batfamily (besides Damian), she's close with all her Aunt and Uncles, and for the Al Ghul's, she also gets excited whenever she visits Talia and Ra's. And while she definitely also gets along a lot with her other relatives who are in the Superfamily, the person she's most closest to there (besides Jon ofc) is Kon, due to them both being created as clones meant for evil but turned out good instead, which got them to bond even more as Uncle and Niece.

Her voice sounds like Clementine's from Telltales the walking dead games, but specifically the version of it from season 2 for the tween age she's in right now.

She has messy hair like Jon when she lets it loose. Jon is the one who always has to brush her hair whenever it gets tangled up, since the steel strength of it is just too difficult for Damian to actually handle himself.

Nadja laughs at Damian's jokes all the time since she gets his dark humor and he loves that. They always laugh a lot about it together but when Jon's around, they're Iike "You wouldn't get it" and he gets all offended.

Jon passed his love for noodles onto Najda and Damian's usually like "That's not healthy!!" And tries cooking her vegetarian meals more often or healthy ones that Talia would used to make him back when he was a kid, just so that Najda will eat real food lol. Najda also really loves the meals that comes from Damian's culture too and gets happy whenever he makes them for dinner.

For nicknames, Jon will sometimes call her "Sweetpea", "Sugar cookie", and "Tootsie pops", while Damian calls her "Habibti", "Thamin" (meaning "precious" in Arabic), and "Galbi" (which means "my heart" in Arabic)

Damian matches his outfits with Nadja all the time just like Talia would always used to do with him when he was a little kid. He does this with Jon included too and they take pictures together.

When making her hero suit, Damian was the one who helped Nadja out in drawing the designs and brainstormed ideas with her. When she had finally found one she liked and was ready to make it, Damian and Jon could've helped her sew it and everything, but they didn't have many materials that she could use or a sewing machine either, only a regular sewing kit that they use to fix up their own suits whenever they get damaged, so they let her make it with Ma's help instead at her place when they visit her and Pa again, since she actually owned a machine and also had a sewing room filled with many useful materials. When asked, Ma didn't mind letting Nadja use her stuff at all and was instead delighted about it since it would just give them the chance to spend time with eachother while doing one of her favorite hobbies together.

And next time, while having their usual Mother and Son days out together, Talia helped Damian pick out the sarong skirt for Nadja while hanging around stores, since they thought it would be nice for her to have one. Jon was the one who bought Nadja the red sneakers while shopping together with Kathy, since it reminded him of Kathy's old purple, rainbow ones, but with a twist of red thrown onto it, which also reminded him a lot of his favorite old ones that he used to always wear as a kid too. Dick and Cyborg helped her insert digital tech into her cuffs, which lets out hologram screens that let her know whenever she's over using her powers since she's still mastering them and it does plenty of other useful things for her too.

Najda was also given a mask to go with her suit at first too since she thinks it's annoying to wear glasses in her regular life everyday, but then it got lost during a fight and some villains saw her face, so she was still forced to go with the glasses route in the end anyways.

As adults, Jon's a scientist and Damian's a veterinarian. Najda likes visiting both of her Dads at their day jobs after school and doing her homework there while they work. She always promises to behave and not get in the way and if she has no work to do, she'll help them out too, which they appreciate. She also loves watching what they do and let's them happily explain their favorite stuff about the job to her. She knows a lot about taking care of animals and science because of this.

Nadja loves music and making it too. She even thinks about playing rock music for a living when she grows up. Damian and Jon support her in this and buy her the instruments she needs and they also listen to her songs when she wants to show it off to them. Because of them being in a band themselves back when they were kids, Damian, Jon, Chris, and Jake give her lessons sometimes on how to better play her instruments.

Civilians and especially interviewers always question about how they had Nadja and just assume that she's adopted or assume that just because she looks more like Damian, she's probably from a secret ex girlfriend he had before being with Jon. The last one annoys both Damian and Jon so much, especially Jon since Nadja is actually his kid too and he gets jealous at the thought of the ridiculous idea. Both him and Damian hate these rumors and just want everyone to mind their own business.

[drewsbuzzcut]

Frustration

mat barzal x model!fem!reader

a visceral in doses blurb

warnings: slight angst, bickering, cursing, frustration

“You can drop us off at Beau’s,” you muttered through the tense silence of the rental car.

“You’re not coming back with me to the hotel?” Mat asks, thrown off guard by your statement.

“Not when you’re like this,” you say.

“Like what? Losing games? It’s not really all in my control. It’s a team effort, you know?” He bites, words coming out in a harsh manner.

“No. I couldn’t give two shits if you guys lose, you can lose every single game, just as long as you do everything you can to try to win. It’s about you being so fucking moody,” you bite back, staring at the side of his face.

“Don’t curse in front of the kids,” he has the nerve to say.

You let out a scoff, your eyes wide in shock.

“Seriously? After you were all pissy and cursing as you were buckling them in. You can’t say shit to me, Mathew,” you finish, closing your eyes after moments of silence follow your words.

He had nothing to say.

He pulls up to Beau’s house, you quickly unbuckle yourself before settling your younger two in your arms.

“I’ll be back for Nolan,” you inform him.

Mat rests his head on the steering wheel, disappointed in himself. First, the islanders have not been doing well, and now he’s being a dick to his family. He slams his fist on the wheel, momentarily forgetting that Nolan is lightly asleep in the back.

The moment his wife opens the car door, he hears Nolan’s sniffles. He knew he messed up, once again.

“Have you not learned? Go back to the hotel and sleep off your anger. Hopefully tomorrow you won’t be so angry with the wrong people,” you whisper, no malice just stoic.

“Babe,” Mat calls out, his voice sounding watery and hurt.

You look at him and his pretty eyes that shine with unshed tears.

You turn away, walking back toward the house to put Nolan to bed. You shyly ask Beau to keep an ear out for them in case they wake up, telling him that you’ll be in the front consoling your husband.

When you walk back out, Mat’s head rests in his hands, his sniffles sound identical to Nolan’s.

You open up the driver’s door, bringing Mat’s attention to you. You rest a hand on the back of his neck, softly caressing the skin. He looks at you with a desperate glance. He needs you more than the need you have to be annoyed with him.

You wrap your free arm around his shoulders, bringing your forehead to rest on his. You crowd the minimal space he has in the driver’s seat.

He moves his face to bury it in the crook of your neck, and that’s when you start massaging his scalp.

“I’m sorry. I know I’m being an ass right now, I’m just so frustrated. It’s not an excuse, though, because I shouldn’t be taking it out on you or the kids. I made Nolan scared,” he says through a strangled cry.

You hug him tighter to your body. You could practically feel the regret roll off him in heavy waves.

“I should’ve handled things better, and not reciprocate the frustration. I love you, baby,” you whisper in his ear, your nose skimming the skin of his cheek.

“I don’t want to be that type of dad. I don’t want to make our kids feel like they can’t be around me,” he states, shaking his head like he can’t even fathom the thought of his kids not wanting to be around him.

“I know.” You continue to stroke his skin, feeling his shoulders slightly fall.

“Hockey has been a lot lately. I’m doing something wrong, we’re all doing something wrong. I just don’t know how much more I can take,” he whispers defeated.

“It’ll all work out. You guys will find your rhythm. I’m sorry the season isn’t going the way you planned, but I’m here for you. Don’t take your frustrations out on us because at the end of the day, win or lose, we’re always going to be your biggest fans,” you soothe him, kissing soft pecks on his neck up to his jaw.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you and our family. I love you,” he cups your cheeks, pulling your lips to his.

“I love you, barzy. Now, I need you to come back into Beau’s house with me, so we can fall asleep together. You holding me and us holding our children,” you grab his hand and pull him out of the vehicle.

“Do you think Tito will be mad if we have sex in his guest bedroom?” He asks, pulling you back into his arms as you both walk towards the front door.

“Slow your roll, hotshot. We still got the kids with us,” you cackle.

“He has more than one guest room,” he adds, a cheesy smile on his face.

“In your wildest dreams, Barzal,” you pull away from him, walking backwards so you’re facing your husband.

“You’re my wildest dream, Barzal,” he states, catching up to you to pull you back into his arms. You lean up to kiss him, finally feeling like your husband is back to his happy self.

a/n: Enjoy!

[lilisouless]

"The horror! Kaz Brekker has been spotted with a four year old suli girl and she is taking notes, she even is dressed just like him and copies his movements"

"Oh no what if that is his spawn!"

"Saints forgive us!"

Kaz: The key is knowing your surroundings so you can improvise in case something goes wrong, no one yet knows i got this beautiful sapphire from the chambers of the queen of ravka-

Zoya entering: BREKKER! GIVE HER BACK!

Kaz: Sure, i don't really want the stone, it was just a test and the cut is cheap anyway-

Zoya: I meant my daugther! give her back! (and what the hell is she wearing?!)

"But uncle Kaz was going to teach me to open a safe"

Zoya: Not-your-uncle and you don't need that , we are rich. Next time your dad says "don't worry, i hired a babysitter" i won't trust him-

Kaz: I was only trying to practice parenting, one day i will bring to this world the next criminal mastermind and the city has to prepare itself

(Years later)

Kaz: Who wants to go outside to learn every single secret about this city

Kanej child: not me, i want to finish my friendship bracelets

Kaz: do you need seashells for that? i can get some

[itsgodepi]

If I lose my mind | Ch. 6

Series summary: When life has given you more than enough lemons and you cannot figure out how to make a lemonade, the only way to make it work is to get rid of the whole basket. But was it neccesary to send you to a whole different dimension for that? A juicer would have done the job, really. Or, one day you go to sleep as a normal person and the next you wake up as a Formula One driver. You've never been a fan but isn't it like, one of the most exclusive sports? Pairing: CL16, LH44, CS55, DR3 x fem!reader Chapter: Previous | Next Word Count: 2.8k Also on AO3

It is stupid really, the little things you do to reassure yourself that this is not the reality. You found an article the second or third day in France whose headline read something like How to tell if you’re dreaming: 5 steps (with pictures) —yes, it’s from wikiHow, so what? Your mind is playing tricks on you so you won’t believe the important sources—, and you have been following it like a ritual ever since. 

For example, it says to always check your environment for distortions, that appearances can be deceiving in the dream world. And although it talks about your house being different from what you remember or objects looking strange, being in a completely different country from where to sleep in seems to fit that description just fine. 

Another step had been to test your strength and abilities, if you can fly or lift extremely heavy objects, you are clearly not awake. You are not ready to admit the number of times you have tried jumping off the hotel bed and levitating without success, but you would say driving a Formula One car is quite a remarkable skill to learn overnight. 

The one stage you had not been able to get past had been to consider other people around you and analyze whether their presence made sense or not. From the beginning you have been surrounded by strangers, Nick and what he calls the team, journalists and other drivers. This combined with the fact that you have not been able to contact your family or friends yet, has made this step the trickiest one to overcome, nobody during these past few days being able to really tip you off.  

That is until you saw the fucking Fernado Alonso strolling into the drivers’ briefing like it was nobody’s business. 

You had never been too interested in Formula One, the races and everything surrounding the sport honestly bored you, but that was one thing and not recognizing Fernando Alonso when he is literally sitting in front of you was a completely different one. Your father would kill you if that had been the case, how could you not recognize the Spanish driver who you had spent countless afternoons seeing your dad and uncles cheering for when you were a child? It made no sense. So, although he now wore a different team’s shirt —the characteristic blue clothes you remember, nowhere to be seen— and had shorter hair, you were 100% sure of who he was.  

The man’s presence alone managing to convince you once and for all that this was not real. 

That is why, now that you are back in the paddock, jumpsuit zipped almost all the way up and a smile on your lips for the camera, you feel somewhat calm. You have made it through a third practice and the qualifying session in one piece, all ready and prepared to fulfill your media duties in front of more strangers like this is an everyday thing. No recollection of the hours you’ve been seated in that deathtrap of a car fighting for P15, not a single memory of the other car whose lap you supposedly impeded, no nothing.  

It is not a good result, you are aware of that, but you are hoping to win a few positions in the race tomorrow and maybe the first points of your career. Well, that is what you are advised to tell the interviewers at least, how the car is working great under these conditions or something like that. You cannot remember half of the script at this point, but you had done well enough when you were under the spotlight. 

Thankfully, Saturday’s activities have finally come to an end, only a couple social media videos left to record and you will be on your way back to the hotel in no time. The garage is almost empty at this hour, a few mechanics hanging around, taking a last look at the car and organizing everything they need for tomorrow’s race. Nothing compared to the first time you stepped inside building.  

The media coordinator is running late, the whole filming crew is. They were supposed to be in the garage before you even finished the media conference, taking some shots of the car and speeding off the process so you could have some rest before tomorrow’s race. And yet, here you are, trying your best not to doze off in one of those uncomfortable highchairs near the screens while Nick tries to sort things out. He had instantly gone in her search when you arrived, muttering something under his breath as he stormed out of the garage. 

It is not like more than ten minutes have passed really, but the jumpsuit and fitted clothes you wear underneath are killing you. You should have changed without permission, get onto some nice clean clothes before they came back. What is the worst that can happen? A person made up by your imagination is going to come and scold you? 

“Oh, you’re still here!” a soft voice wakes you up from your thoughts, your eyes tiredly trailing through the garage to see where it is coming from.  

Must be someone from the team coming to see what the mechanics are doing, the men still fixing things here and there when half of the pack has already gone back home to rest for the biggest even of the weekend. You would feel bad for them were they not literal products of your imagination. 

However, after fighting with your sleepy brain for a bit, you realize that you recognize that voice, your gaze searching with renewed energy for the man in question. What is Charles doing here?  

You find the driver walking into the garage through the pitlane’s door, his red jumpsuit still hanging from his hips and his hair a mess. His tired smile is contagious, your own coming to play on your lips as he nears your seat. You try to pick up the things you had hazardously thrown in the chair next to yours, thinking he might want to take a seat after the long round of interviews he must gone through, but you soon understand he has a very different idea in his mind.  

Before you can even react or greet him with more than a simple “Hi”, the man is pulling you into a big hug, his arms wrapping around your waist as his face comes to hide on the crook of your neck. Charles lets his full weight rest on your body, your highchair giving him the perfect opportunity to do so as he stands between your legs, like he cannot keep himself upright any longer. “Haven’t seen you all day...” Charles sighs into your shoulder, squeezing your body tighter as if he was letting go of all the accumulated stress, slowly relaxing his hold after a few seconds. 

Confusion paints your features, your arms awkwardly resting over his shoulders while you try to figure out what the hell is he doing.  

It is strange, the sense of familiarity that his touch brings you, the way he molds himself to your body as his thumbs draws circles on your lower back making you feel so at peace. You try to push all those feelings down with a frown, patting him on the back and trying to squirm out of his hold.  

The man seems to not be ready to let go off you though, simply relaxing himself in your arms like this is not literally the third time you have ever seen each other. Charles has been nice to you in the few encounters you have had and all, but that does not make this sudden invasion of your personal space any less weird. And it is not like you are alone either, the mechanics moving around the two of you like this is no big deal, not a second glance at the situation you got yourself into. 

“Com'è andata la giornata?” Charles whispers after a while, voice muffled by the collar of your top since he refuses to break the hug.  

What did he say? Did he just... speak in a whole different language? It is bad enough that you are dreaming in English..., this is getting ridiculous. Are you just going crazy in your sleep or something? 

“Hm?” you confusedly answer, both to gain some more time to make sense of what he asked about and to leave room for him to repeat the question. Maybe you didn’t hear him right? Yeah, that must be it. 

Charles chuckles onto your skin “Troppo stanca per rispondere?”, the soft graze of his breath over your skin making you shiver, hairs standing on end.  

What is he doing? Treating you like you are best friends or something when you are not even acquaintances in the first place, and while he keeps talking to you in a language you do not understand, mind you. 

The man finally puts some space between the two of you after the total lack of response, his face emerging from your neck so you can be face to face. Nonetheless, his hands still come to claim a place on each side of you, leaning into your personal space without a care in the world around you. You can’t even get off the chair because he is in the way!  

There is a silly smile playing on his lips while all this thoughts bubble in your mind, his head tilting to the side as he continues “Or have you already given up on Monza?” 

“I guess I have” you manage to respond after the initial shock, the high-pitched tone of your voice betraying your nerves and giving away just how unsure you are of what exactly he is talking about. You make a mental note to look up what this Monza thing means in case he brings it up at some point, or maybe you should simply run away from him if he is going to pulls something like this again. 

“It was too soon anyway,” Charles shakes his head, regarding you with such a soft look that you almost forget he is a stranger, his actions confusing you even further “You’re putting too much pressure on yourself, there’s no rush... We can practice over the break, just study a bit more and we’ll see how it goes” 

And since you are completely lost in the conversation, you decide to give a simple “Okay” as your response.  

You have mixed feelings about the interaction, the bittersweet taste it left behind coming to hunt you when you spot him the next day. Of course you were going to see him, he is a driver and today is race day, but that does not make it any better. You have felt so alone this past week, missing your loved ones locked away within the four walls of the hotel room, that although his proximity had been completely unwarranted and unwanted when he first hugged you, something inside you started missing his warmth as soon as he stepped away. 

Images of yours and Charles conversation keep playing over and over in your mind as you walk through the rows of Formula One cars, back into your race suit while you get through the mass of mechanics and cameras filling the road. The car is already formed up on the grid —yes, you have incorporated some F1 concepts into your vocabulary after all the research—, the prerace activities having finished a while ago and the worse part of the day looming over you. 

Charles is standing at the front, in that area separated from the rest of the road by white barriers, talking with a taller man that you do not remember ever seeing before. The big logo on his chest gives you some clues though, the two bulls facing each other painted on his race suit giving away which team he drives for. A Red Bull driver.  

It is nice to finally understand the whole color coordination stuff between the car and your clothes, courtesy of the hours you have spent behind the screen researching about the sport. There are ten teams with two drivers competing for each one of them, some of their logos easily recognizable while others —like the one engraved on your shirt for example— are impossible to remember. Don’t know half the driver’s names yet still, only had time to search for mister Carlos Sainz’s whole biography after what happened in the drivers briefing. He is also Spanish, a fact that heavily surprises you, either your mind has made this person up or your father talked about him enough that his presence in the sport has stuck in your subconscious. 

You decide not to walk towards the two men when you enter the area, not because of what transpired yesterday between you and Charles or out of shyness, but due to the strange behavior he has been exhibiting since this morning. Not only him, but all the other drivers you had previously met as well. While they all had been overly familiar and playful with you during Saturday’s meeting, they seemed to be avoiding you throughout both the prerace activities and now the ceremony.  

Everyone except for Lewis. 

When you had come out onto the track for the first time that day, made to walk alongside your teammate, Mick, to one of the vintage cars that would be taking you on a lap around the circuit, you had felt fairly uncomfortable. Mick had not uttered a single word to you outside of the meetings and interviews, only ever greeting you when there were cameras around and even then, it was easy to see how forced it was. It is not like Mick was being hostile or rude towards you, his comments about you always polite and short, it felt more like he was indifferent. The driver preferred to keep you at an arm's length if possible. However, even that indifference felt like a slap to the face when you were surrounded by strangers pushing cameras into your space. 

So, although Lewis had his own army of microphones and videographers at his back when he came over to greet you, in your eyes the man looked like your own personal saviour.  

Who could blame you for the way you gravitated towards him later on in the private area? Away from your teammate and those other drivers that had not dared to send more than a tight smile your way when your eyes accidentally met. On the other hand, Lewis had always been welcoming, a source of calmness that managed to make you forget about everything happening around you even if just for a second. 

“I wanted to stay back for a few days, go to a show in Cannes, but then I’d have to fly straight to Hungary...” Lewis complains, arms crossed over his chest as he walks you to your designated spots on the road 

“I can’t wait to leave, honestly” you confess with a chuckle, surprising yourself with the way you are treating the matter of flying from one country to another every week with such apparent normalcy. Well, amid all this chaos, with twenty Formula one cars at your backs and thousands of people watching from the grandstands, taking a flight is one of the most normal things you have experienced so far. 

Lewis lips stretch into a big smile at your outburst of sincerity, his dark eyes crinkling at the sides “I see you didn’t like France at all” 

“It’s not that...” you try to justify yourself; it is not like you had seen much of the country in this past week either, your schedule tight enough as it is to try and also squeeze some sightseeing in there.  

Would Nick have allowed it anyway? The man had kept you on a short leash since day one, only granting you some alone time at night and even then, he knew exactly where to find you. The happiness with which Lewis recounts his trips around France and recommends a few places to visit before you leave on Tuesday, makes you miss that newfound freedom you had experienced during your external practices in Spain, the taste of that amazing adult life they had been promising you since before you started the university. 

Truly, not everything in this new stage of your life had been as incredible as they had portrayed it, those liberties came with harsh responsibilities that you were clearly not handling well. Are you seriously whining about not having time to walk through the beautiful streets of this French city when you would be incapable of travelling here on your own in the first place? You are only ‘here’ because you are living through the longest and weirdest dream you have ever had, this city does not exist, the floor you are standing on is not real and you have most probably made up all that information you have gathered in those sleepless nights. 

And last, but clearly not least, the realization that for some reason overwhelms you the most and marks the rest of the ceremony: Lewis is not real either. 

Next chapter

___

Author's note: it's so nice seeing you're enjoying the fic, I hope you liked this chapter as well. Thank you all so much for reading!!

Taglist: @purplephantomwolf @raye2000 @yuiiimd @drezzerk33 @leclercdream @homie0sapien @minkyungseokie @carlossainzwho @rewmuslupin @kyuupidwrites @raevyng @lazybot @gills-lounge @hiraethrhapsody @jjkclub

[zjpg]

just a girl

'birthday girl'

last - m.list - next

[june - addi's bday!]

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charles_leclerc happy birthday best friend❤️ -> tagged: addilynleblanc

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addilynleblanc thank you cha❤️💙

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landonorris Happy birthday AL 🫶🏻

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addilynleblanc thank you LN🫶🏻

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talking to pierre and arthur again felt nice, though she still carried this burden of guilt with her every time she speaks with any of them, including lando. she's still learning to deal with the neausiating feeling that takes over her stomach when she sees them, she smile and waves.

"happy birthday!" her team jumped out from behind the tables as she walked into the 'energy station'. she jumps a little before smiling at the decorations, cake, party hats, and of course her team. max looks like he was forced to put on the party hat but he still wore a smile as he stood in the middle of everyone else, right in front of the cake.

"awe, thanks guys." she giggles and walks over to her team, hugging christian and max. nolan and claire stood back as one of the pr managers followed the youngest driver with a camera. "what flavor is the cake?" she asked.

max let out a chuckle, "red velvet" her favorite, they remembered!

they sang happy birthday to her in a mix of english and french, though they butchered it enough to make even max laugh at it. she blew out the two candles on her pink and purple cake before she cut it. "maxie, you want a a slice?" she smiled and tilted her head. max would usually deny, but it's her birthday and she's been through a lot, he knows how much it mean to her if he said.

that's something everyone finds so endearing about addi, she finds so much joy and happiness in these small things. it's a childlike trait, and maybe that's because she never had a real childhood to begin with. her parents needed her to mature quickly so she could also mature on the track, especially when it came to racing against older kids. she needed to be professional and mature when she was at the track. she was 4 when she started.

she cut everyone a piece of cake who wanted it, leaving herself a very small piece. she doesn't like to eat junk before a race, she likes having a good healthy breakfast before each race. the red bull team always buys her packs of her favorite red bull flavors. but they actually made a picture book of her first year with them.

after the celebration they had practice to get to, game faces on. she was getting happy birthday wishes the whole day, some of the drivers gave her cute little trinkets or bought her some of her favorite snacks, or in kimi's case, money and a pat on her head.

addi is actually really loved by the older drivers, even kimi has a soft spot for her. she has the nickname of 'kid' along with the younger drivers. each driver has given her nothing but praise over the last year that she's been driving. and it's really special to her to have a bond with the older drivers, especially because her bond with her dad isn't the smoothest at the moment.

"happy birthday, kid!" lewis smiled and hugged the young girl when he first saw her, hamilton falls in line with the older group of drivers. he brought roscoe to the track just for her that day, "does this mean i can show him around red bull?" she smirked.

lewis sighed but smiled, "i guess" he exaggerated. later tiktok's of roscoe walking around with addi around red bull and the paddock would be posted on the f1 account.

"hey birthday girl" lando smiles at the younger, she was holding roscoe's leash as the pair hugged, "get anything good today?"

she shrugged, "roscoe." she giggled and pointed at the dog. the brit laughed back and pet the bulldog, "i got red velvet cake, a collage book... thing?" she chuckled, "and like 3 packs of red bull as well."

"red bull is just in your bloodstream at this point."

"it's my secret to passing you every weekend." she joked with a wink. lando wasn't having it, he gave her that 'oh yeah?' look before grabbing her waist and tickling her. roscoe tried joining in the tickle fight but couldn't quite reach their level, so he barks.

"okay, okay, stop!" she tried but he wasn't giving in, "i'll let you by this weekend!"

he stopped, "really?"

"nope!" she and roscoe ran, though the bulldog wasn't much of a runner. "c'mon roscoe, c'mon we gotta get away from the bad man!"

liked by pierregasly and 2,495,392 others

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addilynleblanc thank you for all the birthday wishes! and thank you to whoever sent the flowers, they're beautiful 💜💜

pierregasly Happy birthday, Addi-Loo -> addilynleblanc IT WAS YOU!?!?!?!?! -> pierregasly 💜💜

landonorris Happy birthday, thank you for teaching me everything you know 😎 -> addilynleblanc thank you dodo ily

charles_leclerc HB forever friend -> addilynleblanc 🫶🏻

claire.newbet glad you liked the cake, beauty -> addilynleblanc 🫶🏻

arthur_leclerc Happy 21 -> addilynleblanc 🫶🏻

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[softichill]

The Sounds of Nightmares unofficial transcript

Chapter 1 - The Workers in the Walls

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

[Click]

[Shifting, Otto clears his throat]

Otto: Yesterday evening marked my first true session with the girl. Signs of significant disorder are greater than I initially thought. Her imagination is… vast. But one phrase in particular has become an earworm of sorts. 

[Click, this time of a tape being inserted]

Recording of Noone: “He was right in front of me breathing hard… That’s what I remember most. The awful smell, like when sausage goes bad.”

[Click, the tape stops]

Otto: Scent while dreaming is a rarity. An indication of sensory transcendence. She may be a fine candidate for a neurological study… but her health must come first. [Sigh] There are undoubtedly other details I missed in her recount. 

Otto: [Deep breath] From the top, then. [The tape begins to rewind] Sleep be damned tonight. 

[Intro plays]

[Click]

Otto: This is the Counselor. Herein are my preliminary case notes for tape #54, session #1, patient #1220… [mumbling] referring to children by numbers… [deep breath, normal] Our relationship goes beyond mere ethics, so I can leave that practice to the heartless quacks on the upper floors. But to remain professional, I’ll use a moniker the girl has given herself… Noone. (A/N: pronounced like noon)

[quiet tapping as a drink is poured]

Otto: Noone has been in CPI care for a fortnight. Given her rather remarkable medical history, her mental state seems relatively unremarkable. [stirring his drink] She finds herself in my ward due to worsening, though not recurring, nightly afflictions. Parasomnia isn’t uncommon among patients; not to imply she’s unworthy of treatment, only that there are others worse off. 

[Otto shifts in his seat and sips his drink before setting it down]

Otto: Noone also displays signs of mild trauma. As such, Nightmare Disorder is possible. Given her diffidence, the focus for this session is to build rapport. I’m hopeful Noone will open up and we’ll learn what lies inside that little head. 

[Ceramic clicking, Otto says “Oh!” at the sound of papers being knocked over. More ceramic, the audio cuts]

[A door closes]

Otto: Take the big chair, Noone. Sit, lie, saddle it like a horse, whatever you please. 

[Otto pulls out paper as Noone sits down. The chair creaks]

[quiet jazz starts to play]

Otto: How’s that?

Noone: …fine I guess. 

Otto: [Walking to his chair] That look on your face says there’s more on your mind. 

Noone: It’s… it’s like the music I used to hear through the walls. In our old apartment. Before we moved into the fancy house. 

Otto: Would you like to talk about that? Your old apartment?

Noone: No, counselor. 

Otto: Alright. An easier question to start. How are you feeling today?

Noone: …Bit sad. 

Otto: For any reason in particular?

Noone: …Um… the red flower… mum and dad left. It went all wrinkled. I tried lifting a petal and… it broke off. But, then I saw why- little crawlies, everywhere underneath the dirt. 

Otto: Aphids? How unpleasant. [shift] Must be hard, here all alone. That wasn’t just a flower to you, was it?

Noone: No, counselor. 

Otto: Y-Your parents only want you to feel like you again. And we’ll see to that! One day at a time. 

[Otto writes something]

Otto: Have you been sleeping?

Noone: Yes, counselor. 

Otto: Call me Otto. Sleeping well?

Noone: …Yes. 

Otto: Noone? This is a place of honesty. The truth, please. 

Noone: …Fine. Middle of the night, I keep waking. 

Otto: And are you perspiring?

Noone: …um…

Otto: Sweating?

Noone: Oh. Uh, yes. And, my heart beats like there’s a- pecking bird in my chest. 

Otto: Did these nightmares coincide with the onset of your sickness?

Noone: No. O-only after. 

Otto: And, do you remember your nightmares or do they disappear come morning?

Noone: I remember. Everything. 

Otto: [pause, shifting] …Would you be alright to tell me about them? Now, or, later?

Noone: Yes. Um… The one I had last night, it’s still here. The feeling. But, may I have some juice? My head’s light, and mum says it helps. 

Otto: (amused) I’m not sure that’s true. Regardless, you may. 

[audio cuts]

[audio resumes. Noone is sipping a juice box.]

Otto: I see you eyeing my painting. I’ve had it since I was a boy. “The Zahir’s Gaze”, it’s titled. 

Noone: Why is it so- blurry?

Otto: It’s a hidden image. The trick is to unfocus your eyes. Try it!

[short pause]

Otto: There! Can you make it out now?

Noone: …no. 

Otto: I’ve got an idea. Keep your eyes on the painting- let your mind wander. Meanwhile, you can tell me your dream! If you’ve finished your juice. 

Noone: [sipping] I have. 

Otto: From the beginning, then. 

[pause]

Noone: …It started when I woke up. Somewhere I didn’t belong. 

Otto: Describe this place, please. 

Noone: Everything was white. Only slowly I realized snow was falling on a field. The view was peaceful looking out from so high up. Like I was… one. With the cold. 

Otto: You felt this cold?

Noone: Not like the counties in winter, but, more like watching someone who is chilled. Around me, but not… in me. 

[the music quietly stops. Ambience for the dream begins]

Noone: I turned away from the window, which was only a hole in the stone wall of the curved passageway, that stretched on a long ways. This- odd feeling, told me to get up. But I couldn’t stand because the ceiling was so low. I crawled ahead and… if not for the tiniest bit of light I would have fallen. Another passageway appeared on the floor. Its edges throbbing in the dark. Suddenly I- I heard a clinking from below. 

Noone: That same feeling told me I was lost inside a giant. A huge one made out of stone, and the only way out was to keep going through its veins. I climbed into the pitch dark,

[Dream!Noone gasps, the sound of sliding plays]

Noone: And immediately began sliding down the icy wetness, going and going, faster and faster. I thought the slide would never end and just- and-

[Dream!Noone grunts as she hits the ground. The sliding stops]

Noone: It shot me out. 

Otto: …Did it hurt?

Noone: …Not like when you fall for real. 

[footsteps]

Noone: I can see what it is now! The painting! A-a tiger, and two moons. 

Otto: That’s not quite right. 

[Noone walks back]

Noone: (with interest) I’ve never seen a tiger before. 

Otto: Keep trying! Remember to unfocus. Continue, as you wish. 

[pause]

Noone: An orange glowing came from a candle. But the light didn’t reach the room’s corners. A tiny hole had been cut out of the stone beside me. “The snow,” I thought. “How nice it would be to watch fall again.” I look through, but there was no snow. [ambience picks up] Only a room, brimming with glass jars. Light danced through them, coming from a doorway on the opposite side. Until… a figure stepped through it. 

Noone: This HUGE man. Wore a long coat and fishing hat. His face kind of… dripped as he watched me. Then he was gone. W- He was an.... I-I can’t remember. It’s the only thing I can’t remember. 

Otto: Could it have been someone you know, your father perhaps?

Noone: (immediately) No. This man doesn’t belong to our world. 

Otto: I don’t quite follow. 

Noone: That’s just the feeling he gave. 

Otto: You keep mentioning this “feeling”. Can you try to explain?

Noone: You can’t understand! Not unless you were there- you just can’t!

Otto: It’s alright, Noone. We don’t have to talk about him. Relax. Breathe. 

[Noone takes 3 exaggerated, slow breaths]

[ambience gets slightly louder. It’s faint, clicking machinery]

Noone: Turning from the hole, I spotted an exit on the far wall. That’s where the clinking was the loudest. I started towards it, when a shadow ran out from the corner, that of a child. I shouted “Hey!”

[Dream!Noone: Hey! Where are we?]

Noone: “Where are we?” But, quiet as a mouse, he climbed through the pulsing exit. And carelessly I followed. 

[Dream!Noone grunts as she hops through the exit]

[Machinery gets louder]

Noone: The room over was bigger. And the child was gone. All over the walls and floors, were more pulsing passages. Like living ant tunnels. All kinds of springs laid about, and little oil cans and strange tools. 

[Dream!Noone gasps]

Noone: Suddenly, footsteps. Approaching, matching the rhythm of the clinking. [sound of a wooden crate] Knowing I didn’t belong I hid behind a wooden box. 

[a hoard of small footsteps alongside the machinery]

Noone: Peeking up, I saw other small shadows entering the room. They step by each other silently. Most passed into different doors, but two stayed behind, searching for the springs. They were not children. Not at all. Even in dim light they remain shadows. Things not quite there, as if forgotten, not wanting to be seen. 

[Things clicking, cracking, and moving around]

Noone: They held nasty tools and… their empty faces showed they weren’t very bright. Both stood, looked down a passageway… and jumped. 

[Dream!Noone gets up and follows them]

Noone: With nowhere to go I did the same, climbing to the platform below. 

[Dream!Noone lands. The machinery is even louder now]

Noone: I finally saw what was making all that noise. Golden, spinning wheels. Fat ones, small ones, skinny ones, and they went down so deep I couldn’t see the end! I didn’t know what they were until that faraway feeling came back and told me. 

Noone: They were gears. With- teeth which locked perfectly into one another, clicking on and on in a song that never stopped. There were a hundred-hundred of the dull little shadows, working to keep the mechanisms going. Felt… without their doing, the gears would surely stop. And the giant would break apart stone-by-stone... But as I leaned over the edge, distracted, my foot must’ve knocked a wrench. 

[a quick clink. Dream!Noone gasps]

[the wrench falls a long way down]

Noone: All the shadows stared up. And a few begin climbing my way. They move separately, but… as one. [Dream!Noone breathing quickly] I panicked and tucked between a set of levers, in the tight space my dress got caught [Dream!Noone grunts] on the tooth of a massive gear, pulled me up and around until my dress tore [tearing fabric, Dream!Noone yelping] shooting me onto a pipe below, where I lost my grip only to hit another platform. 

[Dream!Noone lands, breathing heavily]

Noone: The shadows stopped chasing me, working again as… the yank* took the piece of my dress, now stuck between two gears, causing all the others to slow. 

Noone: While they were bothered, I took the chance to escape. 

[Dream!Noone running, machinery fades out]

Noone: The wall in front of me went… went down and around, f-forever and ever. Along with the mechanisms. I grabbed onto a rod, sliding on, when a big creak [metal groan] groaned above, and the gears went right back to singing their song. 

[machinery starts again]

Noone: The ripped fabric floated down before me, passing by a tiny crack in the stone. Painful cries came through it. [faint echoey scream] I shouldn’t have wanted to know what was on the other side, but… I did. 

[more screaming]

Noone: A small room with chains covering the floor. And 3 identical nun-like dresses, freshly pressed, hanging by a bed. Then, the chains jangled [Chains jingling, man gasping], and my heart stopped. [Man groans] A frail body slumped against the wall, a chain around his neck. He was right in front of me breathing hard… That’s what I remember most. The awful smell, like when sausage goes bad. 

Otto: Hold on a minute, Noone. [Noone gasps. Ambience suddenly stops] You distinctly smelt his breath?

Noone: Not his breath. Him. So rotten, it still stings my nose now. 

Otto: How certain are you?

Noone: You told me to tell the truth, no? I am. 

[Otto quickly writing]

Noone: Do you still want to hear the rest of my nightmare?

[Otto still writing]

Noone: Otto?

Otto: Hm? O-oh. Apologies. My mind was divided, and that’s not fair to you. 

Noone: [quiet sigh] Anyways. 

Noone: Looking through that crack, I realized something. (whisper) I was inside the walls. Like a rat. On the other side was an entire world. (normal) And everything got… w-worse from there. 

[very quiet ticking]

Noone: Lower and lower I climbed until I had gone- down so deep, that there was nothing but steam and darkness. And louder ticking, back, and forth. Back, and forth. Wanting to give up I sat listening. 

[ticking is more noticeable] 

Noone: I’d nearly fallen asleep, when suddenly a small shape crawled out from inside the wall below. “Another Worker came for me,” I thought. But… when they looked up… I saw their eyes. A child. For certain, this time. And… their hair was covered in goo, which made it hard to tell if they were a boy or a girl. Still, I climbed down, full of energy. 

[Dream!Noone climbing down]

Noone: Nearly the amount I used to have. 

Noone: We stood in silence, a moment. Stuck in their hair was… black liquid moving like smoke. 

Noone: “What’s in your-” [Dream!Noone at the same time] I started, [child shushing] but they put a hand over my mouth. Not until they pointed at the wall, did I understand why. Its another crack, led to yet another chamber. 

[Dream!Noone and child walking over. Metallic hammering starts up]

Noone: It was a hideous workshop. All around were… half-made… projects? Built from wood and metal, with all kinds of straps and cranks. Their shapes made my chest tighten. A collection of… masks was- on the shelves with screws and spikes on them, positioned to fit perfectly into a mouth! 

Noone: A tall woman bent over a new project, [faint humming] wearing a familiar dress. Long heavy chains coming out under its tail. [Chains scraping, more humming] She moaned, enjoying herself. I could feel she’d been at it for hours. Her presence alone told that she was the keeper of this stone giant. Of the world beyond the walls. 

Noone: Turning to a pile of scraps… I saw her face. Equally… old and young, and her s-skin stretched back so tight that… only her eyes seemed human. I wanted so badly to know what she was building, and to scream all the same…

Noone: But before I could do either my new friend pulled me away. They pointed up. 

Noone: From between the planks, a shadow studied us. The child pulled my arm but it was already too late. The Worker leapt down besides me, inspecting my body like a tool, reaching out with its wrench. The child pushed me away, [the sound of burning] letting a sliver of light shine out from the workshop to hit the shadow. Faster than fast, it tucked back into darkness, [sound stops] desperate to keep hidden. 

[pause]

Otto: Noone, why have you stopped?

Noone: I’m thinking. …The next bit is hard to describe. The nightmare- it shifted. 

[ambience picks up, earlier sound of machinery]

Noone: Steam reached around us. And we came to a place at the bottom of the gears. Between the walls. 

[whoosh, tick]

[whoosh, tock]

[whoosh, tick]

Noone: In front of us, a long pendulum whooshed back and forth. 

[whoosh, tick]

[whoosh, tock]

Noone: My friend grabbed hold as it swung by. I let it go past one, [tick], two, [tock], three times before finding the courage to do the same. We climbed as the pendulum rocked left and right, making my head dizzy. “Just a little more,” I repeated to myself, until my friend reached out a hand to pull me up. 

[Both Dream!Noone and child grunt as she’s pulled up]

Noone: We’d made it. Finally, the center of the clock. The room was round with a spiral staircase, and a machine made of little metallic fingers, tapping a violent rhythm. 

Noone: The ceiling was a white- clock face, but… all the numbers were wrong. 

Noone: We immediately ran up the stairs [footsteps] and at the top, we stepped out into a courtyard. 

[Dream!Noone and child breathing, stepping on grass. Machinery and ticking fades out]

Noone: My body began shaking as I heard them. [Faint screaming] Shouts and shrieks of pain. All I could do was stare up at the circular walls, which I had just been inside. This was the true building. There were a million rooms like the second one I peered into, all the way up, with- hands and limbs reaching out from between the bars that kept them locked in. My heart pounded like one of them. A Prisoner, trying to get free. 

[Screaming and shrieking continues]

Noone: I shouted “Wait, please!”

[Dream!Noone: Wait! Please!]

Noone: But my friend was across the courtyard. Then, a jingling. The tall woman jumped down from above [jingling, thump] and with thumping steps, she went after my friend. A chain leapt out beneath her dress, like a snake. It caught their leg and the woman dragged the child through the snow, kicking and yelling. 

[child struggling]

Noone: My friend scared to tears [child: Help!] yelled for help, and the woman spotted me. She began plodding my way and fear froze my feet. Getting closer and closer and all I could think was “Who brought me here, and why was I made to know these secrets?!” [chains jangling] 

Noone: With skin so tight her mouth opened only a sliver with blackened teeth inside, hungry for something! …Something that swelled inside me. 

[all ambience cuts off]

Noone: …Then I woke up. 

Otto: …That’s… awful, Noone. I’m sorry. The woman in particular sounds… disturbing. 

Noone: Yes. But, she didn’t scare me most. Not after I woke up. It was the Workers. 

Otto: Hm… because they were mindless?

Noone: No. Because they were hidden. Nobody knew they existed… that’s how I feel sometimes. Since getting the water sickness, (increasing distress) as if things are in my body but instead of making me tick they’re killing me, like the bugs in the flower pot- Ugh, I can feel them in my head!!!

Otto: Noone. Listen to me. I’ll do everything within the limits of my command to help you, but there’s nothing bad inside you. Nothing. 

Noone: …um…alright. 

Otto: [pause] I have… one more question, and I think it’s enough for your first day, okay?

Noone: Okay. 

Otto: Noone, have you ever heard of mutual dreaming?

Noone: Mutual dreaming?

Otto: Sharing the… experience with another person. 

Noone: How could what’s in my head be in someone else’s head? And who would I share it with?

Otto: Questions that have hounded my outer colleagues for years. Your perception of temperature and smell while dreaming is sometimes thought to be an indicator of this transpersonal phenomenon. While I’m not convinced of its ontological validity, I’ve longed to study a case like yours. Unfortunately- I’ve only known one other person to exhibit this faculty, years ago-

Noone: Who? Were they like me?

Otto: …My… (quietly) beloved Cici**... uh- not quite. In any case, my ambitions fell off, I… I lost sight, of… many things. But you’ve stimulated a part of me nearly forgotten. 

Noone: Oh. I think I see it now, Otto. 

Otto: Yes! That’s right! We’re in this together. 

Noone: No. The painting. 

Otto: Oh. 

Noone: It’s a map. Of stars and two circles around it. 

Otto: Yes! Good! An astrolabe, in fact. 

Noone: Astrolabe?

Otto: An ancient instrument, used to locate positions in time and space. Now, surely, you’re exhausted-

Noone: I don’t want to go to my room. To sleep. Will… will you walk me back?

Otto: Of course! And we can’t forget your nightly confectionary. [the sound of wrappers] Here now, take your pick. 

[Wrapper crinkling]

Otto: Sweets for my sweet. 

[ceramic clinking]

[click]

[Outro plays]

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

*It's a little hard to tell what word she says here

**I have no idea if this is how it's spelled

[monsoon-of-art]

Donut Hole - Chapter 20

Silhouette

The fire I began is burning me alive But I know better than to leave and let it die

I'm a silhouette asking every now and then "Is it over yet? Will I ever feel again?" I'm a silhouette chasing rainbows on my own But the more I try to move on, the more I feel alone So I watch the summer stars to lead me home - Silhouette, Owl City

[(deep breath) been a while huh :') A ton of stuff has happened in my life that really hindered my writing; being moved to full time, my dad having a stroke (he's recovering with no permanent damage) and my PC breaking. But here's a new chapter!! Where Dawn gets involved, and Barry learns of some very crucial things…] [ao3 link]

Dawn chose to hide away in her home, not wanting to leave Jubilife but unable to stand hearing the curious whispers of the townfolk. She tried to keep herself busy; cleaning her space, organizing her things, checking in on her pokemon…

But nothing could keep her mind away from her friend in the medical wing for long.

She lay in bed, her pokemon lounging around the home, reflecting their trainer’s sullen demeanor. 

Her Samurott, Riptide, lay by her side and allowed her to nervously pet and pull on her whiskers.

“I wonder…what they did with his Pokemon.” She wondered aloud.

The woman who helped run the pastures was nice enough, but Dawn doubted she could care for Barry’s team. No, they were most likely with Laventon.

Barry was a good trainer. He treated his pokemon back home with love and care, verging into ‘spoiling’ territory, Dawn might dare say. Honey for his heracross, sugar cubes for his rapidash, mangoes and fruits for his Torterra.

His new team…they were strange. Scruffy, dirty, thin looking. Barry wouldn’t willingly let his team look like that. What had they been subjected to in the wilds of Hisui? With no Galaxy Team, no Laventon to find him on a beach-

Her thoughts drifted to Barry himself.

Scruffy. Dirty. Thin. Deeply upsetting. Like a childhood toy nearly torn to shreds, hanging on by bits of thread and stuffing.

Riptide let out an unhappy chitter, Dawn realizing she had been tugging on her whiskers a bit too hard for her liking. “Sorry.”

Her mind wandered elsewhere. Somewhere less sad. Somewhere angry.

Why hadn’t anyone come to her when Barry arrived? Surely someone had to have made the connection; a strange boy her age with outlandish clothes and a gift for training pokemon?

Why did they let him suffer in the cold and the damp and the dark?

If a single person had told her - not even her, if someone had told anyone in Jubilife - then Barry wouldn’t be in the medical wing. He wouldn’t be so thin and dirty and hurt.

She replayed Adaman’s words in her mind. “Because we weren’t totally sure. And I didn’t want to raise your hopes in case it wasn’t.”

And the worst part is…Adaman was right. If they had come to her with a description of Barry, and it wasn’t Barry? She’d be crushed.

Luckily for her mental state, she didn’t have to think about this for long. There was a knock at the door, followed by Rei’s voice, “Dawn? Are you in there?”

Dawn stood to get the door. She had learned not to let her pokemon answer the door anymore, not since her Kadabra answered the door for her once, and then rumors swirled around town about how she had turned into a Kadabra.

She hoped she didn’t look too disheveled when answering the door. It had been a very long day.

Either it wasn’t too obvious, or Rei decided not to comment on it.

“Uhm, the leaders left not too long ago…” he started to say, rocking back and forth on his heels. “I dunno what they said to Kamado, but it was loud. On both ends. But it seemed to have worked, I don't think the commander plans on practicing his fighting moves tonight…”

“Okay.” Replied Dawn, unable to really muster any excitement in her voice. Sure, it was nice that Kamado wasn't going to start suplexing people, but that certainly wasn't on her mind.

“Well, now that things have calmed down, uh, Miss Pesselle says you can come visit your friend. He's not doing so well right now, but she thinks he'll be alright-”

“REALLY?!” She struggled keeping her voice low. “Why didn't you start with that?! Let's go!”

--

Consciousness was proving to be rather fickle and fleeting. Barry felt himself drift in and out, like the waves on a beach. Awake, not awake. Awake, not awake. Drifting at sea, below the waves.

And being awake sucked. 

Every part of his body ached. Even parts that he didn't know could ache. He couldn't even scrounge up the willpower to open his eyes. Sounds were muffled, distant, unfamiliar.

So he would just lay there…aching. 

It wasn't all bad. He could sense the presence of someone nearby tending to him, and even if it hurt when they had to change bandages, he knew it was probably a good thing. Cups and bowls were gently pressed to his lips, and even though it tasted distinctly medicinal, he really didn’t care.

And sometimes, when the ache and the pain grew too much, he could feel a warm hand slip into his own and squeeze.

It was comforting. He wasn’t alone. Someone was there with him through it all, here to hold his hand when it hurt.

And Barry would try to smile and squeeze back before drifting, drifting, drifting…

He wasn’t sure how long he spent drifting. Hours, maybe. Days, weeks. 

Until one day, he finally opened his eyes.

Barry was in a bed he didn't recognize and a room he didn't know. Things were kinda blurry, and fuzzy, and his head hurt, but it was something.

Breaching the surface of the water for the first time in a while, it seemed.

He hesitantly squeezed the hand holding his own and glanced over to his side.

“... Barry?”

Dawn looked tired. He wondered, numbly, if she had left his side at all.

But she was here. Alive and well and not just a terrible gap in his memory. She had the same eyes, the same face, the same tired smile that she'd give him when he'd do something stupid-

“D-Dawnie.” He croaked, dry lips cracking into a beaming smile. “I did something stupid again.”

“That's OK, dummy. We can talk more about that later.” She gave his hand a squeeze. “How are you feeling?”

He groaned, trying to think of an accurate description. “Numb. Aching. Like a piece of gum left to dry on the boardwalk in Sunyshore.”

Dawn giggled, a beautiful sound that he had grown to miss so, so much. Barry couldn't help but weakly chuckle alongside her.

“Pesselle said it's a miracle you're alive. She said you had a foot in the grave, and a shovel in your hands.” She looked at him, tears welling in her eyes. “I-I was…I was so scared…w-wh…what if you didn't wake up?”

She let go of his hand, trying to wipe away the tears as she began to weep.

“Hey, hey-” he sat up slightly, ignoring the aches and pain, “It's alright! I-I’m fine now! I'm not going anywhere.” A serious look crossed his face. “No one's gonna try and stop me.”

“Th-there was drapion venom in your blood. Pesselle said i-it was a miracle you kept your leg.” She continued to whisper. “You won't be able to walk for…I dunno how long.”

“I've been walking on it for a while! It'll be fine!”

“I think that's part of the problem.”

Dawn gestured for him to lay back down, to which Barry ignored. “I couldn't stop and rest, I was on the run! It's crazy, just listen to-”

He paused. A strange look came across his face, and he grabbed Dawn's hands and held them tight. “I need you to tell me something. Something that only you would know.”

“Barry-?”

“Please. Please. Something only you would know. Please.”

Sadness overtook her features, not directed at him, thankfully, but she clearly felt bad for him, and wanted to soothe his worries.

“When you were little, you wanted to have a big birthday party with a big cake. And you invited the entire class. Your dad asked Elite 4 member Lucian, to borrow his Mr Mime for entertainment. And…uhm. When Mr Mime walked out with your birthday cake, you were so scared that you started crying, and you even-”

“NO! DAWN THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT?!”

“What did you mean then??”

“I dunno! Something deeply personal and special to us??”

“Well you didn't specify! What about the time you got your Halloween costume based on heracross and you asked me to hit you with a branch to ‘prove how strong' you were?”

“No, that's not what I meant either! I'm starting to think you're doing this on purpose! Do you need me to fine you?!”

Dawn couldn't help but laugh. When was the last time she had been threatened with fines? She couldn't remember. It felt good, familiar.

For a moment, the medical room walls melted away. They were back home, camping, just teasing each other after a long day of training.

“Do you remember the time you poured yourself a glass of vinegar at a buffet because you thought it was soda, and you nearly barfed-”

“You are! You are doing this on purpose!!” Barry shouted back. “Two can play that game, missy! Don't think I've forgotten about the time our class started singing happy birthday and you were so surprised you started crying!”

“Hey!” She squealed in fake offense. “I did not!”

“Did too!”

“OK, OK, let's stop with the yelling.” Dawn said, pressing him back against the pillows of his bed. “Not sure we want Pesselle to come yell at us-”

“No no, wait, wait, hold on-” a frightened, almost desperate tone crept into his voice. “I know it's you. There's no way. I can trust you.”

“Of course you can trust me?”

“This place is crawling with Team Galactic!” He hissed, “Absolutely swarming! They tried to stop me from finding you, I think they're the reason you're here! They kidnapped you!”

Dawn opened her mouth, but no words came out. She just let Barry continue.

“I haven't seen Cyrus yet, but I've seen Mars and new commanders and Galactic Generals, and they're hellbent on capturing me! This is a universe where Cyrus won, don't you see? There's no civilization, people and pokemon don't trust each other-!” A moment of panic overtook his features, and he frantically looked around. “My pokemon, where are my-”

Dawn grabbed his shoulders. “Barry. Barry.”

“Huh? What, what?”

She took a deep breath. “That's…not right. That's not what's going on.”

Barry also took a breath. “OK. I'm listening. Tell me what's going on, I'll believe you.”

Dawn hesitated. “It's a bit crazy…”

“The last few months have been nothing but crazy for me. Whatever you say, I promise.”

“I think…we're in the past.”

He gave her an incredulous look. “...when I said I'd believe you-”

“Barry!”

“It's just a little hard to believe!”

“Oh, but your theory of being kidnapped by an alternate dimension Cyrus is more plausible?”

Barry tried to think of a retort, but couldn't. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Touche. What's your evidence?”

“Do you remember the history class we took about the late edo period?”

“Yeah, I failed that one.”

Dawn reached into her bag currently on the floor and pulled out a pokeball. “See how it looks rough? These are carved by hand, using apricorns. Surely you remember the pokeball lesson.”

That clicked in his mind. Before the modern manufacturing of Pokeballs was established, people would carve out their own using apricorns. Some could even make special ones with unique traits, but the skill and craft was a dying art.

“I thought…I thought they were poorly made…” he said slowly, softly. Barry shook his head, “That doesn't entirely prove it. If this was a world where Cyrus won, obviously Silph Co wouldn't exist.”

Dawn then gestured to the room around them, which Barry finally began taking note of.

There were no medical devices, not really. Mostly beds, blankets, pillows, panels to give some semblance of privacy, and a sleeping croagunk in the corner.

It did look a little old fashioned, like visiting the Old Chateau, or the homes in Celestic town. The way the wood was carved, the way the paint looked…

“Look at the clothes they gave me!” She continued, taking off a red scarf to show him. “Not fake fabric at all, this is real!”

All of the little inconsistencies, all of the assumptions based on a worst-case scenario. The pain he went through. The pain he caused. It was all starting to climb up his throat.

“Dawn. I don't feel so good.”

“What? Why? Should I go get the doctor? Her name is Pesselle, she's really nice-”

He grabbed her arm as she stood to leave. “I think…I did a lot more stupid stuff than I realized…”

Dawn had an inkling that his time in Hisui was less than pleasant. But the sheepish anxiety in his voice worried her.

“What…did you do?”

The door behind them creaked open. Dawn turned, relieved to see Pesselle carrying fresh bandages. “Ah, good! The two of you are awake. The captain wanted to see him.”

The relief quickly faded when Pesselle stepped to the side and Captain Cyllene entered the room.

And Barry started to scream.

[rainydaydream-gal18]

Hello! If requests are still open (if not please ignore ) May I request cute parental moments each bad batch member has with Omega with reader included? For example, Tech and Reader helping Omega with her first pilot lesson?

(The Bad Batch) Batch x Reader: Parent Moments

Author's Note: This is such an adorable request!! Thank you for dropping this in my box! I decided to do little blurbs to answer this. You are free to read each one individually as romantic xReader, or view this as a collection of platonic moments.

This got me thinking about the Bad Batch doing dad stuff, and some of that fed into this XD Will probably make a separate post about it.

Enjoy!!!

Hunter: Teaching a New Skill 

   "Alright, kid. You ready?" Hunter asked, arms folded as he noted the eager expression on young Omega's face. You lifted your hand to cover your lips, stifling a chuckle as she practically bounced up and down.

   "I'm ready!"

   "First, you've got to ease up. Tracking requires patience and focus."

   "Right." Omega relaxed her shoulders. "Patience and focus."

   "That's right. It's about recognizing the signs. You may not be able to pick up on all the signs I can because of my...abilities. Neither can ________, as a matter of fact." He stole a glance your way. His tone was serious, instructive, but you caught the slightest taunting glimmer in his eye as he continued. "But she learned in her own way. And her skills aren't half-bad."

   You rolled your eyes playfully, kneeling down on one knee to survey the ground in front of you. "Yeah, sure." You eyed a branch from a shrub that had been bent in half, most likely stepped on by something large.

   "I didn't know you knew how to track," Omega said in fascination. She tilted her head curiously as your eyes scanned the area.

   "With him around-" you motioned vaguely in Hunter's direction "-we hardly need another tracker. But Hunter thought it would be a good idea to have someone else know a thing or two just in case."

   "And since you were curious about it before, _______ and I thought we'd teach you what we know." Hunter shifted his stance. He looked to you again. "So, what do you see?"

   "Looks like some sort of large leaf-eating mammal just came through here about an hour ago."

   Hunter lifted a brow at you. "And?"

   "Right. sorry. Two leaf-eating mammals. One of them is much smaller. Perhaps it's a mother and her young."

   He nodded in approval at your assessment. "Good."

   Omega's eyes widened in amazement. "Wow! _______! You're really good!"

   "Not half-bad," Hunter repeated, his smirk growing.

   "Yeah," you chuckled. "What he said. So, let's get started. Hunter, if you would?"

   "Rule number one to tracking is..."

- - - - - - - - -

Wrecker: Protective

   You, Wrecker, and Omega were walking through the woods of a strange planet one of Cid’s jobs had landed the Bad Batch on.  Omega practically begged Hunter to give her a job on the mission.  He finally agreed to let her scout ahead, but only if she took someone with.  You volunteered to go, and for good measure, Hunter ended up sending Wrecker along just as a precaution.  Though Tech voiced that the possibility of encountering a danger was minimal, there was no telling exactly what was out there.

   “Keep an eye out, kid,” Wrecker said, though his tone suggested he wasn’t the least bit concerned.  There was a certain confidence he had as the biggest and strongest member of the squad.  It meant that things were less likely to want to go up against him.

   “Don’t worry,” Omega replied, narrowing her eyes as she looked around her surroundings.  “I’ve got my eyes peeled.”

   You were both proud and amused at how seriously she was taking the task that Hunter assigned her.  It was a good quality to have.  She didn’t scoff or complain at even the most mundane jobs aboard the Marauder.  She preferred anything to being left behind.

   Suddenly, you heard the quietest snap, like a twig.  You looked over at Wrecker to see he had picked up on a presence as well.  Omega hadn’t quite caught on yet.

   Another snap.

   This time, she heard it.  She looked over at you with wide eyes, and you put a finger to your lips as a sign to keep quiet.  You then motioned for her to return to your side, and she started taking careful steps in your direction.  

   The kid was brave.  She’d already faced many dangers and handled them pretty well, but in that moment, the worry was evident.  She didn’t like the unknown.  After some of the things you’d all faced, could you blame her?

   And then the threat revealed itself.

   It was a beast of some sort, something Tech had warned about in passing.  He’d said that the likelihood of them attacking was very low as they were mostly nocturnal.  The creature bared its sharp teeth in a fearsome snarl.

   You closed the gap between you and Omega in an instant, wrapping your arms around her and pulling her behind you.  The creature bounded toward the two of you huddled together, but its was stopped dead in its tracks by Wrecker, whose shoulder collided with the beast in a hard tackle to knock it away.

   He drew his blaster and planted his boots in the ground, shielding you and Omega from the danger, and took aim.  “Hey,” he growled.  “Why don’t you pick on someone your own size instead?”

   The creature raked its cold eyes over you and Omega once more, most likely debating whether its prey was worth the risk of dealing with Wrecker.  It lashed its tail furiously and gave another loud snarl.

   Wrecker took one step closer, and it stepped back.

   It finally decided to abandon the hunt.  The beast turned and sauntered back into the forest, leaving the three of you alone.

   Wrecker let out a hearty laugh.  “Smart animal.  Knew better than to tangle with me!”

   A big smile spread across your face.  “Thank you, Wrecker.”

   “Yeah, thank you,” Omega said.  She breathed a sigh of relief, the fear leaving her features and instead being replaced by wonder and admiration for her big brother.  “That was amazing!”

- - - - - - - - -

Tech:  Bickering

   “Very good, Omega,” Tech praised the young Bad Batcher for her ability to follow his instruction.  She beamed at the note of approval in his tone.  “What next?”

   “We take a look at the systems, make sure everything’s operational.”  She squinted at the collection of warning lights flashing across the dash.  Her lips formed a small frown.  “There are a lot that aren’t…”

   “Critical systems are,” he said, raising his index finger pointedly.  “That’s what’s important.”

   You couldn’t help the snicker that escaped you, swiveling your chair in a failed attempt to hide your humor from the pilot.  Tech looked in your direction curiously.

   “What’s so funny?” Omega asked, amusement creeping into her tone at hearing your laughter snowball.

   “Oh, nothing,” you wheezed

   “I believe ________ finds humor in how I maintain the Marauder.”

   You clutched your stomach.  “Sorry.  It’s just- you’re teaching her bad habits.  We really shouldn’t have so many alerts going off.”

   Tech’s voice remained even.   “Numerous events and projects have prevented Echo and I from doing proper maintenance.”

   “Right, right.  I’m sorry.”

   Tech held your gaze for another few seconds while you bit your lip to try and cover another laugh.  His tone was still calm, though you detected that hint of underlying sass.  “I don’t suppose you’d like to assist in repairs?  Seeing that it is a concern of yours?”

   “I’m just saying,” you replied, internally oooohing at his passive-aggressive comment, “that under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t advise Omega to take off with that many alerts.”

   “Critical systems are unaffected.”

   Omega glanced between the two of you.

   “I know, but-” You sighed, grumbling, “I think I will make some repairs.  Where’s the toolkit?”

   “Maybe Tech and I could help?” Omega spoke up helpfully.  “This way, Tech could show me more about the ship, and we can get caught up with repairs.”

   “Excellent idea, Omega,” Tech chimed in.

   “Yeah, sounds good!”  You exchanged looks with Tech, all sass forgiven and forgotten, before diving into the lesson.

- - - - - - - - -

Echo: Fashion Show

   “Hey, Echo!”

   He looked up from his data pad at the sound of Omega’s usual chipper greeting.  You boarded the ship close behind her and waved.  Both of you carried a few beaten-up bags from your trip to the market.

   “Hey there,” he said with a smile.  “Get anything good?”

   “Yes!  _______ helped me find some armor!”

   “At least for now,” you chimed in.  “Until we find something more suitable.  The kid needed it.”

   Echo nodded in agreement.  “Alright, let’s see it then.”

   Omega exchanged looks with you, her eyes alight with excitement, happily taking the second bag and hurrying over to her room.  While she got ready, Echo turned to you.  His brow furrowed in a look of confusion.

   “How’d you manage this?  We don’t exactly have a lot of credits to spare after that last job ended badly.”

   “I have my ways.”  Your tone was cryptic, but he didn’t miss the glint in your eye or the pendant that was missing from your neck.

   “_______….” he began, concerned.

   “Don’t worry about it,” you insisted, giving him a gentle nudge.  “She needs this more.  The kid comes first.  Besides, you saw how excited she is.”

   Just then, Omega emerged from her room, donning her new (slightly used) armor that you helped her pick out at the merchant’s table.  She held out her arms to show it off as she walked over.

  “What do you think?” she asked.

   Echo nodded in approval.  “You look like a Bad Batcher.”

   He was right.  The pieces of armor had been scrubbed as clean as it could, though it had its fair share of scuff marks and scratches from previous use.  She looked battle-ready.

   “It does look pretty cool, doesn’t it?”

   You tilted your head to the side.  “I’m afraid those boots might be a tad too big.”  

   “They’re perfect,” she insisted.  “Oh!  I have to show Echo the cloak!”  She climbed back into her room, and you and Echo both shared a laugh.

- - - - - - - - -

Crosshair: The Pet He didn’t Want

   “Look, Crosshair!”  Omega beamed as she held the pup up towards the sniper. “We found a lost voorpak.  Isn’t she cute?”

   The pup gave a little bark and wriggled around, sticking its tongue out.  Crosshair’s already stern face twisted into a look of mild disgust.  “It’s ugly.”  The pup looked unaffected as he turned to walk out of range, but Omega followed him, holding the voorpak even higher.

   “She is going to be named Brandi.  And she is adorable.”

   “We could use another girl around here,” you joked, resting your hands on your hips.  “Come on, Cross.  Even you have to admit it’s kind of cute.”

   He sat himself down on a crate and began to inspect his rifle, most likely for cleaning.  “Don’t tell me we’re keeping that thing.”

   “Hunter said we can look after her until we find a suitable home,” Omega replied victoriously.

   “How wonderful,” he muttered.

   You and Omega exchanged looks, laughing, and took the pup back toward her room so it could scurry around for a bit.

   Over the next few days, the voorpak began growing on the Bad Batch.  Even Hunter and Echo would smile in amusement watching Omega play with the creature.  Wrecker joined in.  But Crosshair preferred to keep his distance.  He would roll his eyes and offer up complaints if the creature didn’t do its business outside or was in his way.

   It was one afternoon that the others went out for supplies.  Omega asked you to keep an eye on Brandi for a while, to make sure she didn’t get into any trouble, since you were staying behind to do a few tasks around the Marauder.  Crosshair would be around, but of course, he didn’t like Brandi.

   The pup followed you around the ship, barking playfully and smothering you with kisses every time you had to kneel down or crawl into a small space.  It was a few hours in, and suddenly, you realized that she wasn’t at your heels.

   “I’d better check on her and make sure she’s still on board!” you commented to yourself.  So, you set your tools down and went looking.  There weren’t too many places for her to hide, but you kept your eyes peeled just in case.

   Faint yip-yip sounds coming from down the hall caught your attention.  You followed it cautiously, realizing quickly that Crosshair had been down there organizing gear.  You didn’t want him to be bothered by Brandi, so you hurried your pace.  But when you reached the doorway, you were met with a most unexpected sight.

   Crosshair was sitting on a crate, staring down at little Brandi, who was hopping around in circles.  There was a small huff of air, like a brief chuckle, and Crosshair leaned down to pat the creature.

   It yipped again and cuddled up against his leg.  He didn’t say much, but you couldn’t get over the soft expression on his face.  “You’re not all that bad,” he commented, scratching the little puff ball with legs.  “I suppose.”

   You felt a presence appear at your side, and you realized that the others had returned from their trip.  Omega was standing next to you and peering through the doorway with a smile on her face.  She didn’t look all too surprised to see him being so tender toward the voorpak pu, and neither of you had it in you to taunt.  You both nodded and backed away from the doorway, pretending to have just arrived.

   “Oh, there she is!” you stated.  “She disappeared for a few, and I got worried.”

   “There she is,” Crosshair said, standing to his feet with a sigh.  He looked at Omega.  “Took you long enough.”

   “Sorry, we got side-tracked.  There was a really cool snack stand!”

[cherryechogalaxy]

No one's talking about how incredibly BPD coded Insomniac Harry/Venom is so I will. This is also essentially an essay so be prepared

I would also like to preface this by saying that this is based on my experiences with having BPD and the diagnostic criteria in the DSM-5

Peter is 100% Harry's favorite person. I mean look at him. The way that he makes every excuse to be around Peter so much so that he practically begged him to work at his company? The passive-aggressive "So you told MJ, but not your best friend?" when he learned that Peter was Spider-Man? And then insists that he work with him as a superhero to kinda push Miles out of the way? The entire high school flashback scene? Not to mention that Harry held Peter in high regard even before he learned that he was Spider-Man.

Also, remember that the symbiote only emphasizes thoughts and emotions that already exist. So when Harry's probably splitting on Peter about the whole Spider-Man thing, the anger is only amplified by Venom.

Now, before y'all say that "all this only happened after Harry got the symbiote," that is simply false. During the final fight with Venom, Peter says that he "came over every single day after school. Even slept over after [his] mom got sick." While yes, Harry not being able to "see her like that" was a component afterward, that doesn't explain Harry's attachment to Peter beforehand. I would also like to comment that Venom says that Harry's mom "always said" that Peter and Harry "make each other better." This is all theoretical, but she might have noticed that Harry's mood or behaviour might have become more outwardly stable or better when around Peter, which from my experience is something that happens when existing around (or even sometimes thinking about) your FP.

Because, at the moment, Harry can only focus on the rage he has toward Peter, he can only think about the bad things, as evidenced by Venom claiming that Peter was there "Until [he] got sick again," which is objectively not true, but BPD alone can exaggerate thoughts to extremes, and the symbiote on top of it makes it worse. Venom continues, "You abandoned us when we were fighting for our lives," and that it didn't feel like Peter was trying to save them when he was. One of the main symptoms of BPD is an intense fear of abandonment, so much so that the person will take extreme measures to make sure that that doesn't happen, such as leaving before they are hurt, or, in this case, hurting the other person first so abandonment seems justified and therefore hurts less.

In the second phase of the fight, Venom declares: "We know what's best for you! For everyone! We gave you everything you ever wanted." This likely has something to do with BPD affecting one's self-image, which may change from 'the most worthless scum of the Earth' to what I like to call 'I can fight God and win.' As Venom, Harry believes that he now has the power to "heal the world" all by himself, enhancing his temporary superiority complex. Only several lines later, however, Harry's unstable self-image flips from 'knowing best for everyone' to 'being a complete failure,' because Venom states, "We've never been good enough for you... or Dad."

Venom goes on to say that Peter "threw [them] away" and then "replaced [them] with Miles. He poisoned [Peter] against [them] even more." Again, this characterizes Harry's intense fear of abandonment, because 'if Peter spends more time with Miles, then he won't have time for him anymore, and therefore matter to him anymore and he'll be left alone.' (These are thoughts I've had on bad days when my FP spent time with other people)

When Peter tries to fight Venom's claims and says that Harry's his best friend, the exaggeration and impulsive thoughts continue, and he says "Then why don't you trust us?" Again, Harry can only think in the negative at the moment, so he fails to see anything good that Peter is doing for him or the emotions that Peter is feeling.

During the cutscene after the second phase, when Peter says that he's "never gonna heal the world with [Harry]," you can see Venom falter, sighing and looking down before the meteorite catches his attention and distracts him.

At last, during the third phase of the fight, Venom turns his attention to Miles, the person who he sees as having caused Peter to 'turn against him' and spend less time with him. He insists that "[his] future doesn't belong to [Miles]," insinuating that Harry should be the one to have a deep and lasting relationship with Peter, not Miles, even though Miles thinks that he's talking about 'healing the world.'

After the third phase when Venom throws Miles aside and buries him under rubble, he tells him and MJ: "Peter doesn't need you anymore... He has us now." because he thinks that he is all Peter needs, when in reality it's Harry that needs Peter, though he might not realize it.

In the fourth phase, he asserts to Miles: "You took him away from us!" Which is strangely familiar to something I said when my FP started spending time with another person.

Another small thing I would like to note, when flying away after the fourth phase, Venom deliberately throws Miles off him, but not Peter. Also, when Miles is falling down with the meteorite in his hands, Venom focuses his attention on grabbing and eating him rather than retrieving the meteorite.

When Peter finally has Venom pinned to the ground and tries to blast the symbiote away from Harry, he claims that he's done and that he can't fight it, then both Harry and Venom state, "You have to KILL us." BPD is also characterized by suicidal ideations or behaviours, and if Harry telling Peter to kill him isn't suicidal behaviour then I don't know what is.

Finally, when Venom is gone and Peter tells Harry that he loves him, Harry smiles what looks like a genuinely content and satisfied smile, like that was the only thing that Harry wanted or needed to hear before he could let himself fall unconscious.

And if that’s not BPD coded I don’t know what is.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for asking my dad to out himself?

Context: I am a trans woman [30s] and had been in the closet (or so I thought) for several years. I had discovered that my father [60s], a conservative, had been presenting in subtly more feminine ways (piercings, highlights, french tips, and sweaters with a padded bra, to name a few), and I felt that he was the best person to come out to first with regards to close family. He still calls me his son but this isn't about him. I jokingly suggested to a couple of friends I trusted that my old man might have been trans, but I suspected more that he was just gender-nonconforming.

I later wanted to come out to my sisters, but my dad suggested waiting because of major life events occurring and being planned at the time. I waited until earlier this year to come out (after the last major life event). My youngest sister has either quietly been seething or taking it well, but I hadn't heard anything negative from her. My middle sister, on the other hand, apparently nearly had a panic attack. I would learn from my brother-in-law that she was overwhelmed with hypotheticals, including the possibility that even her father was transgender. I had a fire I needed to put out.

A couple of weeks after coming out as trans, I called my dad for our weekly catch-up chats and I brought up that I wasn't happy about hearing that my coworkers were homophobic. He asked how my sisters were taking my having come out - and that's where things get sticky.

I would have normally left things alone and let people come out in their own time - after all, you can be cis and present in different ways (look at JoCat!). However, because of my middle sister overloading herself with stress, I felt forced to ask my dad about what he's been doing, and explained the situation with my sister practically fainting when she saw my coming out post.

I heard excuses about the nails, which I didn't buy, but didn't press either. We agreed that, so long the other was happy about doing their own thing, we weren't going to be judgmental. My dad, hilariously, called what he was doing being gender-neutral, but he wasn't referring to himself with anything other than he/him, so I think it's okay for now to say that my dad isn't transgender, but I felt wrong with how I asked, even with the why behind it.

WITA here? I feel like it in this case because I had violated my philosophy of leaving things alone if it wasn't bothering me, but I also knew I was looking at a powder keg that was going to explode sooner or later.

What are these acronyms?

[cleverri]

[KICKS DOWN YOUR DOOR]

HELLO MY DEAR FELLOW SO I SEE THAT YOUR ACE ATTORNEY MASTERLIST IS EMPTY BUT DO NOT FRET, I'M HERE TO ASK FOR A HERLOCK SHOLMES SCENARIO ABOUT HOW WOULD BE HE AS A S/O? THANK YOU FOR READING

HERLOCK SHOLMES x READER | written by MOD clever

warnings; A few cuss words here and there but that's it-

romantic headcanons for Herlock Sholmes in a relationship…

The Great Ace Attorney Chronicles

Now, listen- This man seems charming. You know, being smooth and having the most out-there deductions. He seems like he has it all, especially with that intelligence of his. But listen here- His life is a chaotic mess. He lives a life of yes, a detective, but also a dad, and an annoyance /hj

Very quirky, very dramatic, can be very frustrating at times. Though because of how expressive he can be, and how he loves to jump into people's lives- (Much to the annoyance of most-) He's a very social person. He enjoys talking to others and figuring them out, it's practically a hobby for him at this point. Though there are his days- They're not many.

Not allowed in the kitchen. At all. Don't let him, you'll be making a huge mistake. Iris is the one making food- And though this does come off as strange- You soon learn as to why exactly only Iris is allowed near the kitchen. Speaking of Iris-

Sholmes is technically a dad. Whether anyone will admit to that or not. A total dilf? Absolutely- Okay, seriously though- It probably comes off as a shock that a very famous detective has been taking care of a child for the last ten years. Seeing how chaotic his own self seems to be. Honestly, I wouldn't be shocked if y'all found this attractive, an actual good parent!

He's very affectionate. In more ways than one. He loves being near you, knowing you're safe, and that you're close enough to grab in case of a dangerous situation. He loves seeing your face during a stressful situation because now he has someone to be happy around. He's just a very loving guy, okay? Accept his affection.

He enjoys someone who's rather affectionate too. Someone who's willing to just, stick with him and deal with his crazy life. Someone who will stick with him and Iris. He’ll admit someday, that he’s happy you’ve come into his life.

Will rant to you about any ideas or inventions that have been starting to brainstorm within his mind. He can’t keep these ideas to himself, he needs someone to get excited with, dammit! He’ll make exaggerated hand motions while doing so, it’s funny to watch sometimes-

Literally drags you along for adventures and cases he's working on. He's literally just like an excited puppy, he's so happy to have you around to give him ideas- Or simply to just show off these difficult cases that he's already solved.

Absolutely LOVED dancing around with you. Just humming a little tune as he takes you by the hand and starts twirling you around- It's the cutest thing. I think it'd be funny if he knew how to waltz, as he doesn't seem like the person to know how to do that??? But he simply says it was for a silly little case he dived into.

Pretty much Golden Retriever energy. Just a big ball of energy, charisma, and goofiness. Also including how affectionate he is- He loves nuzzling into your neck, muttering how much he loves being around you. He loves holding you close, listening to your heartbeat.

His main love language is Gift Giving. He loves making you little trinkets to help out with everyday life, or just making you little things that you’d love to simply stare at. But his second love language is Physical Affection. As said before, he absolutely loves clinging onto you, like there’s nobody else in the world. Holding onto you as if you’d disappear any second.

“Herlock-!?” “My dear, you look absolutely ravishing tonight, do you know that?”

Lanky. Lanky, tall, stinky man- /JBut seriously, he’s not very good in the strength department, as much as he hates to admit to it. He’s focused more of his life into solving mysteries and using intelligence, he never really focused on getting stronger. 

Every single date always somehow gets into chaotic messes- Either it has something to do with Iris, or a sudden crime scene where Herlock must figure out what had happened- Of course, dragging you along for the ride.

We all know how chaotic his life is. Raising a child, having to solve Britain’s biggest mysteries- And now getting himself involved in a romantic relationship. But we all know he wouldn’t change it for the world. And I know y’all wouldn’t either.

[willsimpforanyone]

I just remembered this prompt from wattpad or Tumblr and that it's good for angst.

Request for a Brother!reader x Percy Jackson, where the reader is slowly getting tired of always just being compared to Percy (about how he did so much while the reader just did small things for camp) which leads to reader holding some animosity towards Percy, so he just run away due to Percy not saying or even noticing what's happening to his brother leaving Percy to be sad and wishing he could've been there to stop some of the comparison

(sorry if this was too long, also, you can decide what happens to the reader after running away)

thank you for requesting!

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I stared at my reflection. I don't look much like Percy. Less muscled, for sure, but when one of us has ten times the life experience of the other, that's bound to happen.

I don't even know if I look like my dad; my mom always said I had his nose, a strong, Grecian nose. Both Percy and I have his eyes, though mine have always been... more muted, like the ocean in December.

"Hey, c'mon, we gotta practice."

Percy's voice filtered through the door of the bathroom and I sighed, zipping up my hoodie and throwing the hood over my head. "Yeah, yeah, like you need the practice."

He threw his arm around my shoulders and grinned at me. "Okay, then you gotta practice so I don't have to cover your ass every time there's a battle."

I ducked my head and elbowed him. He backed off, laughing, and I kept my eyes to the ground to hide my scowl. He didn't mean it, I know he didn't, but it still pierced through my ribs, icy and sharp.

There were about a dozen people in the amphitheatre, choosing weapons, slashing at dummies and each other. Percy uncapped Riptide, bronze blade gleaming in the midday sun, and gestured for me to unsheath my own weapon. I pulled out my shortsword from it's sheath at my side, the enchanted iron a familiar weight in my hand.

Already there were whispers surrounding us; watching Percy fight was a spectacle for a lot of campers. I doubted it even mattered that he was just here to help his incompetent brother, they were waiting to see him kick someone's ass. In this case, it would be mine.

I took a deep breath, shaking off some of the negativity. This was Percy, who I trusted to be able to resist the siren call of a performance in favour of actually being a good teacher. It shouldn't matter that there were more people here than there were a minute ago, he was here for me.

That gave me a little encouragement, and I faced him, sword at the ready. He grinned at me, and I managed a smile back. "Come on then, Jackson, what're you waiting for?"

He lunged forward and I swiftly sidestepped, slashing towards his arm. My sword hit against his armour and he spun round, aiming for my side. I could tell he was taking it easy on me, giving me a chance to learn to anticipate his moves.

I was almost having fun. For a moment, it was just me and my brother, the way it was when we first came to camp. I remember being terrified I would never see him again each time he was sent off on a quest, that I would lose my brother forever but he always came back, eventually.

For a split second, I gained the upper hand, pushing Percy back from the assault and attacking rather than defending. Swordplay had never been my strong suit, but I was good enough.

Until somehow he slipped under my arm, dodging the mad swing I made for him and twisting so he ended up with Riptide at my throat from behind. Both of us were panting, and I realised I really should have taken my hoodie off before I started fighting.

There was a cheer from around us, and Percy took his blade away from my neck, clapping me on the shoulder. "Maybe next time," he panted, backing away slightly. I made to turn and reply, but Percy was already swamped, younger campers and friends congratulating him. Annabeth sauntered over to him, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"Don't know why they're so excited, it's not like it was a difficult fight." She said it quietly, in his ear, but I heard it anyway. Percy just laughed, and pecked her lips.

I was torn- I tried! I tried to fight him properly, I swear, it wasn't an easy fight, at least I don't think so. Even if it was, why should he get all the praise and attention? No one else other than Annabeth was willing to fight him, I was holding my own against him.

I shrunk in on myself, hiding as much as I could in my hood, and slipped away from the amphitheatre. My sword tapped against my leg in it's sheath as I slunk back to the Posiden cabin. I shut the door, not bothering to lock it behind me; it's not as if anyone would come looking for me now wonder boy was outside.

Rooting around under my pillow, I withdrew a photo. It was a couple years old now, creased in the middle. I traced the fold lines, time separating me from my mom. She died trying to protect me from a monster that came to kill me when I was 12. I still have some of her things, everything else was burned down with the house.

My mouth tasted bitter as I remembered that Percy, only a year older than me, had found me and taken me to camp in the middle of the school year. I'd idolised him, and for a while we were inseparable until he kept being chosen. He was special, he was the one sent on quests and given power and was more connected to our dad that I would ever be.

I took a shuddering breath, looking down at my mom and feeling that gnawing, craving ache of grief; for her, for never knowing my dad, for feeling like I was losing the only other family I had.

There was a noise outside, a few feet from the door. I snapped my head up, eyes watery. From what I could hear, it was a couple of kids, no older than 8 years old.

"That's Percy Jackson's cabin!"

"Whoa, cool! He has a whole cabin all to himself?"

"No, dummy, his brother lives there too, duh."

"He has a brother? I didn't know that."

"Did you know he defeated Ares when he was like, 12? That's so cool."

They walked away, fully invested in their hero worship of my brother. People didn't even know I was his brother? Maybe they were new, they didn't know anyone, it wasn't fair to be angry at them for something out of their control.

They knew him, though.

That voice was insidious, echoing in my skull. They might have been new, but they knew who Percy Jackson was.

I folded the photo back up, and went to put it back under my pillow. Slowly, I reached into the drawer of the bedside table, pulling out a notebook and slipping the photo into the middle of it.

Without even really meaning to, I found my backpack stuffed into a corner. I scanned the room for my stuff, acknowledging that it couldn't all fit in my bag. Didn't matter, I didn't need much.

Some of my clothes went into the bottom of the bag. The contents of my bedside table was packed, a couple toiletries, as much as I could fit. I changed my shoes, finding a sturdier pair than the ones I was wearing.

I needed food. It was about lunchtime, I could grab some stuff and give an offering to Posiden for safe passage or something. Not that he'd be much help. I found a plastic box from somewhere and hid it in my clothes. I was out and back in 20 minutes, ignoring the few attempts at conversation. The plastic box was filled with food, and I swiped a cannister with water from a table.

I waited until it was dark, the sun just dipping below the horizon and painting the sky in dusky pinks and purples. Everyone would be getting something to eat after a long day at camp. Perfect.

The door shut quietly behind me, backpack slung over my shoulder and my sword at my hip. I should be able to get out unnoticed if I cut through the forest, and I slipped into the shadows of the trees.

A cough came from by my side.

I jumped a foot in the air and swore loudly, clapping a hand across my mouth a little too late. Nico di Angelo was leaning against a tree, dark hair not quite hiding his judging look.

No, not judging. Curious.

Feeling a little under the microscope, I let him take in everything about me- there was no reasonable explanation as to why I'd be here.

After a painful minute of silence between us, he shrugged. Reaching into a pocket, Nico tossed me a piece of plastic; a phone.

"Someone should know where you are."

I nodded and Nico seemed to melt into the shadows of the trees. I was alone, actually alone. Maybe I should have been worried he would immediately run to Percy or Chiron, but I trusted him. He didn't try to stop me, it seemed like he just wanted to make sure I didn't die.

Which, in a weird way, is the most caring thing anyone's ever done for me.

I steeled myself, slipping the phone into my pocket. I couldn't see the barrier that kept camp safe from here, but I knew I'd know once I passed through it.

Deep breaths. Let's get out of here.

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ooo i love writing angst, thank you for requesting, i hope you enjoyed!