#so i ended up being a terribly anxious kid who was constantly being screamed at and told i was overreacting (because i was. because i had

[realbeefman]

stacy is sooo interesting because she's in love with house but knows that they will never ever be able to have a healthy, stable, sane relationship because they're too similar so. she finds house-lite instead and marries him and. essentially moves on with her life! and is successful in this because she's a moderately well-adjusted person!

wilson, in contrast, never manages to escape the inevitable, in spite of his best efforts to find a house-lite of his very own, because he's an absolute fucking freak and ends up glued to house to the bitter. bitter end

[bratz-kitten]

ASTRO OBSERVATIONS [part 5]

— people with jupiter in the 8th may experience an “abundance” of traumatic experiences throughout life, often relating to death; these are the people who truly feel like everyone they love ends up dying. at their worst, they can become desensitized to death— jupiter is ruled by sagittarius, a sign known for being in denial when in difficult situations in favor of optimism. these natives can pretend like nothing actually happened, or minimize the situation in their head so that they don’t have to face it.

— okay this might be a weird one... like, you know in asoiaf when arya was walking through the streets and was always like “i’m as quiet as a shadow”? that’s literally the energy of someone with planets in the 12th house/chart ruler in the 12th house. these people are so stealthy. they’re able to move so quietly and without anyone noticing, both literally and figuratively. on one hand, they’re very quiet about their plans and ambitions to the point where other people only find out when they’re achieving success over it; on the other hand, they just. don’t like making noise while walking idk bitch you’ll only see me coming when i’m right beside you, i even get paranoid that i’m breathing too loud and that other people will hear 

— people with moon aspecting mars can be incredibly impulsive when they feel hurt or triggered. yall need to be careful with doing things in the heat of the moment that you know you’ll regret later... but in the moment, you feel so hurt that it clouds your rational side. please be more self-aware about this because you may make decisions that will directly affect you for the worse in the future 

— people with leo mars ft. constantly asking you for pictures... about anything. they just wanna SEE LMFAO THEY DON’T CARE WHAT IT IS THEY’RE SEEING. you just got ready to go out? “send pics of your makeup and your full outfit”. you’re waiting in a long boring line to get the covid vaccine? “send pics of the line”. your mom baked cake? “send pics of the cake”. plus they send so many random pictures while texting, it’s their special love language

— having moon conjunct moon/venus in synastry feels insane. you tell them something you’ve been through, and they’re immediately like “that happened with me as well.” it doesn’t even have to be something grand, sometimes just very specific things you thought were particular about you. the amount of understanding that comes with this aspect in synastry can feel very new and intense especially if you’re used to seeing yourself as the “odd one out”, used to feeling isolated in your experiences 

— people with pluto in the 1st house often feel the need to erase “traces” of their existence, for example deleting messages that they sent people, deleting all of their social media posts. they can feel anxious and paranoid about other people having access to their past self, even if the past self in question is from, like. a week ago 

— people with chiron in the water houses (4th/8th/12th) might’ve suffered bullying to the point where they repress their memories. a lot of their memories of their school years may feel foggy if they were bullied in those years

— also. people with chiron in the 8th house may feel as though they’ve been punished for wanting to experience intimacy. it’s like, the people who were supposed to be the closest to them – for example, their sibling or something – were the ones who hurt them the most. 

— people with mercury-neptune aspects and strong pisces/neptune energy in their birth chart might struggle with only remembering things when they’re right in front of them. you should keep things in your peripheral vision to remind you of reality, especially when it comes to feelings— so that you won’t start getting lost inside your own head. like... keep the letters your friends wrote you by your bedside table so you can read them every time your brain starts convincing you that you’re not loved. keep the gifts you’ve been sent on display in your bedroom wall, or sentimental material things that remind you of past happy experiences.

— earth placements and their thing for asmr... omfg. it’s like they’re always looking for things to up their sensory experience/sensitivity. like, earth signs are the ones most connected to worldly experiences so they feel so soothed with the whole asmr experience: just hearing someone gently whispering or tapping on/scratching things calms them down and helps them fall asleep. they love the tingles it’s heaven for them

— moon-saturn aspects might hold and caress themselves while they sleep because their parents never did. yes i woke up and chose violence <3 your secret is NOT safe with me 💋

— while we’re on the topic of sleeping, a majority of the pisces moons i know need to sleep while hugging something, at least a pillow. they can’t just not hug something while they sleep, it’s very instinctive for them. anyways if any pisces moon needs a pillow to hold, i volunteer as tribute 💋

— virgo placements feel sososo soothed by hearing their cats purr. thinking about how my virgo placement friends are always the ones who send me videos of them petting their cats... and then i get soothed by how soothed they feel. it’s a win win situation, if you have virgo placements it’s hereby your duty to send me a video of you petting your cat while they purr. right now. GO

— people with gemini in the 3rd house might have shaky movements of the hands when other people look at them doing things. very specific i know but the third house rules hands and gemini is a sign that has somewhat of an anxious, twitchy quality to it. on the other hand, people with capricorn in the 3rd house (scorpio risings, using whole signs) have the steadiest hands i’ve ever seen lol their movements ooze confidence, these bitches know how to make you feel as thought they know exactly what they’re doing

— people with venus in the 1st house ft. altering their pics with photoshop and hating posting selfies without filters because they never feel like their appearance is good enough. stop it. you don’t need to always look your best and especially not if your ‘best’ isn’t even what you actually look like. also... don’t even think about making self-deprecative jokes about your appearance. next time i find one of yall saying “ahaha im not bad for a 5 without talent” i’m squishing your head between 2 pieces of toast and calling you an idiot sandwich. you’re BEAUTIFUL 

— having venus in the 3rd house in composite with someone? do you mean calling each other the absolute ugliest nicknames in the most endearing way? 

— leo deals with themes of the ego, and it seems that leo placements often struggle with attracting narcissistic people into their life... leo suns/mercuries can be raised by loud, overbearing, narcissistic parents who see their kid as an extension of themselves and who teach the kid to always be very supportive and caring towards them or else they’ll deny them of words of affirmation-- either by insulting them to shatter their self-esteem or simply never complimenting the kid back. leo moons/mars/venus tend to attract narcissistic partners who only care about serving their own emotional needs and ignore the ones of their partner, and who feed off of their supportive and giving nature. which is why leo placements really need to watch out for being gullible, naïve and dismissing the red flags because my god, you be falling for some shady people. 

— people with personal planets in the 12th house/chart ruler in the 12th house might feel like they can’t let go of their past life— they may dream of memories, people or places from another life. it’s like they can’t detach from it, and even if they can’t directly remember their past life, it’s like they feel it in their bones. also, they might’ve felt... estranged from their family ever since childhood; there may have been feelings of being unable to emotionally connect to their (often, distant) parents, and they might’ve even wondered if they were adopted because of how different they felt to the rest of the family. 

— okay so, a thing that people with saturn in the 3rd house need to look out for is mentally checking out of conversations while they’re still happening. these people can detect when they’re being manipulated really fast and their way of dealing with it can be to immediately shut down, to grow cold and silent and not even bother answering when you’re expected to respond. and, like, that’s great when someone starts screaming at you or being insulting/trying to coerce you into shit, but take notice if you find yourself shutting your loved ones out as soon as they say anything that triggers you. don’t simply detach from them, communicate what’s wrong

— aries placements, ESPECIALLY aries suns and moons, value generosity so much and they get so turned off by stingy ppl who don’t share with others, especially when others need it. like.. if you’re hanging out in a group with them and someone asks for a bite of your food because they have no money and you say no... espect them to never respect you. ever. 

— people with libra placements use soooo many adjectives to describe things. something can’t just be beautiful, it has to be DIVINE and CELESTIAL and INTOXICATING. they can be so expressive god it’s so fcking funny 

— capricorn placements HATE asking others for advice because they think no one knows better than them (and they’re not wrong, lol). when they truly care for someone, they might ask the person for advice simply as a sign that they respect, trust and value their judgement. even if they don’t plan on taking it LMFAO 

— people with mars in a water sign can have this terrible habit of expecting other people to guess what they want. and then they get passive agressive when you don’t instinctively feel what it is they want... and when you ask them “do you want this?”, they go like “FINALLY. i thought you’d never get there”. stop it. i know that you want people to understand you in a way that transcends words, but you can’t expect people to read your mind and then get disappointed when they don’t, thinking “oh if they loved me that much then they would’ve known that i really want chipotle for dinner :(” GIRL WHAT. COMMUNICATE YOUR NEEDS  

[lady-of-lyon]

So, I made one post a while back about how awesomely feminist the show Wild Kratts was, with how its two main female characters were women of color in engineering and deserving roles of power, female villains who weren’t motivated by spite or quest for youth, etc, but today I wanted to talk about something slightly different, that I’ve wanted to cover for a while now, because I also think it’s very good - and that’s how the show portrays masculinity, in a way that’s really positive!

First, we have our two main characters, Chris and Martin Kratt. Keep in mind these two are basically self-inserts - and there are plenty of creators, especially males, who have used self-insert characters in really scummy ways - all I have to say is Powerpuff Girls reboot and you know exactly what I’m talking about. Even if they weren’t literal self-inserts, male characters, superheroes especially, oftentimes serve the male power fantasy, being just the strong, stoic, all-powerful person so many boys are told they’re supposed to be. I could get into a whole discussion about how the male power fantasy is present even when males are not (ever look through a fashion magazine and wonder why there are so few men? Sure, part of it is that the industry thrives off exploiting women’s insecurities, and men aren’t as concerned for their appearance, but another part of it is so that the guy, looking through it, can feel like he has no competition for these women - there’s a reason so many comedians have jokes about fashion magazines being their sexual awakening as kids. It’s really scummy) but that’s not what this is about. So, the bros had every opportunity to do just that - make themselves these traditional heroes who aren’t actually really good role models, like batman or what have you. It’s certainly not uncommon for celebrity cartoons to do stuff like that. But Martin and Chris chose a different approach. They’re pretty strong standouts for positive masculinity. They’re openly affectionate - both with eachother as brothers, and with their friends. They cry, sometimes over little things - most of the time when big superheroes cry, it’s ‘cause they lost the girl they loved or their mentor or something like that, only in the big, most agonizing moments do they shed a tear. But here, Chris or Martin will cry just because they’ve had a bad day, or because they’re overwhelmed and overjoyed that someone named a mantis after them! In a lot of shows or movies when a guy cries over something little, it’s usually played for laughs, or to emasculate him, but here it’s casual without being unreasonable or overdone. The brothers cry just ad much, maybe even more (haven’t gone back and counted or anything) as the girls do. Not to mention, it’s a very nice depiction of a loving, healthy sibling relationship. As the youngest sibling myself, it’s refreshing to see a pair who don’t abuse eachother with noogies or cruel and snarky remarks. When they do fight, it’s never a screaming match, and also because they had a conflict of interest or disagreed over a fact, not because, say, one of them stole the other’s shirt or is neglecting the other’s feelings. Kids, being very impressionable, get exposed to a lot of abusive sibling relationships played as normal in media, and start thinking this is how siblings are and should act. For instance, my sister (who is now my best friend and has gotten over all these bad habits over time) when she was younger watched a lot of Kim Possible, a show that is great, but has a bad family dynamic with Kim and her little siblings. The “tweebs” as she calls them are always irresponsible, destructive, and making Kim annoyed to no end. My older brother was one of the most polite, reserved, kind little kids, but she still treated him like he was a brat and a nuisance, because that’s what shows like Kim Possible taught her little brothers were. Additionally, I was always treated like a spoiled crybaby who just wanted attention and got away with everything - I was not any of those things, ever, but that’s what shows teach you little sisters are. Sure, Wild Kratts has a smidge of that, with Chris seemingly being the stereotype of the know-it-all little sibling, but instead of being constantly looked town upon for being too “perfect” like with Hailey Long in American Dragon, Martin often praises his brother for his abilities. Sure, Martin gets annoyed when Chris tries to correct him on things, like in the episode Wolf Hawks, but everyone else does too, so it feels more like a take-down of mansplaining than a sibling spat.

I talked too in the feminist post about how refreshing it is that Chris and Martin more or less willingly put themselves under the authority of Koki and Aviva, two women of color. I don’t think it’s possible to say any one character is the “leader,” they all work as a evenly balanced team, but it’s safe to say that Koki and Aviva make the more responsible decisions. The bros try to get out of their calls a few times, but the show plays it more like they’re being irresponsible, and less like they’re renegade cool dudes who don’t take nothing from nobody, especially not two girls. They are pretty much always punished via karma for their reckless choices, most especially in To Touch a Hummingbird, where their arrogant attitudes blow up in their faces rather spectacularly. We also never see the narrative most present in sitcoms, where the male leads mess up and go out of their way to cover it up and ultimately gets away with it - after all, you have to root for them, right, because sure they messed up and had no consequences, but aren’t they just so lovable? No, here Martin and Chris always have to fix their wrongdoing, and it’s always deserved when they get comeuppance. Another aspect of the show I like is that, many times, when the bros get captured or are in peril, they are saved by the women - and most refreshing of all, there’s never a moment of “wink wink nudge nudge wow I can’t believe I had to be rescued by a GIRL” or even “wow you saved me you’re pretty good honey guess I shouldn’t have underestimated you, you go girl!” No, when the girls save them, it’s just - you know, relief? Because they were saved? It’s never a scenario played as an exception, or any more dire than when the bros need to rescue eachother. The bros are genuinely happy to have them as teammates. The show even did the standard “boys vs girls” episode in the form of When Fish Fly - but instead of being actually girls vs. boys, it’s engineers vs. adventurers. There’s nothing really gendered about it - the girls happen to be engineers, and the boys happen to be adventurers. And the episode doesn’t end with the boys being “wow gosh darn I shouldn’t have doubted you girls are better at everything,” it’s a mutual agreement that both parties have hard jobs. Basically, the bros are very naturally respectful of women. That plays more into their feminist narrative too, but either way, it’s refreshing.

Then, we have Jimmy! Jimmy, the lovable gamerboy pizza man. At first glance Jimmy seems like the stereotypical cowardly, pathetic, emasculated loser. He’s frightened of most things, as of yet has no power suit, and he BAKES for crying out loud! But none of these things are framed as terribly bad traits. Sure, we laugh when he screams and runs from an animal, but though it happens over and over, the crew doesn’t get sick of it. They don’t berate him or belittle him because he’s so gosh darn cowardly. There’s a great scene in Rattlesnake Crystal where Jimmy has to deliver something to the bros alone, in the middle of a spooky desert. He is terrified the whole time, sprinting off after he delivers the goods. When Martin and Chris run into him, they don’t laugh at him for being spooked, they just greet and then bid fair well to their friend. To them, this is just Jimmy, and there’s nothing wrong with it. Jimmy isn’t coddled, but he is reassured many times that he’s a valuable member of the team. I love that little message, that you’re just as important of a person even if you can’t do as much or have greater limits. When his friends do try to get him over his fears, it’s not because they have to, that the day will somehow be ruined by Jimmy’s incompetence p, but because they’re his friends, and want him to experience fun and wonderful things that he would otherwise miss out on. But what Jimmy CAN do is just as important! Jimmy is a gamer, which in a lot of shows, is portrayed as a lazy, useless, mindless hobby. But here, because he plays video games, it makes him essential for piloting the ship and teleporting important items. There’s always the joke that video games improves your hand/eye coordination, but recent studies have shown it has much better effects. It can make you much better at keeping track of multiple moving objects and processing technical but variable information- two traits which, fittingly enough, are really really important for air traffic controllers and airplane pilots! He also demonstrates a lot more courage behind the wheel of the Tortuga, which makes sense - in an impersonal setting, he would have more sense of calm and control and courage, because it’s so similar to a video game world. It’s not all too different with how I feel more emboldened to pick fights with people on the internet, but get crazy anxious if a real person so much as looks at me. So Jimmy’s love of video games isn’t because he’s irresponsible, it has real benefits. A quick last point - Jimmy also eats a lot, but they thankfully don’t make him fat or greedy or anything like that. He never takes food from people, he actually bakes, and shares it with others! Having the baker be a boy is a lovely touch.

I might do another post about the toxic masculinity of the two villains, (or four villains, I guess, if I wanna discuss the minions) but I’ve got other work to do, and this post is long enough already, so I’ll get around to it later. I’ll sum it up with this - Wild Kratts is a show that teaches boys it’s not only ok to be kind, but essential. The brothers protect defenseless animals, advocate for things “icky” and “weird,” like bugs or snakes or worms - not because they’re boys, and boys like icky things, but because they genuinely see the beauty in all life, and are encouraging us to slow down and do the same. The Wild Kratts are heroes who save the world not by being the strongest or smartest or coolest, but by looking after those who are exploited and vulnerable, who are essential to the world, even if they can’t always do everything. In Wild Kratts the only weaknesses a man can have isn’t what he can’t do, but what he does do that he shouldn’t have. Sure, it’s a cute show about two funny guys who have cool powers, but it’s also a show about accountability, compassion, respect and trust. The show says “boys will be boys” in all the right ways - Martin is a lovable goof with a heart of gold, but he still has to get his act together when he messes up, and he’s still creative and smart and openly sensitive. Chris is a bit of a know-it-all show-off, but he can also mess up as much as his brother, and is still bold, brave, adventurous, and can put his money where his mouth is. Jimmy is a cowardly, napping, eating machine video-gamer, but he’s still a valued member of the team, has incredible skills and talents, and will always help his friends, even if he is really, really scared. It is so important to have role models like these, in a world dominated by unhealthy machismo. The Wild Kratts are heroes who save the world - both animated, and real.

All they need now is a canon queer character, and I’ll stan them forever! My money’s on Aviva!!

[villainsandvictimsalliance]

Nowhere near as exciting as your ex-agent Dabi and Mafia family Tomura idea, but what about a bakery AU starring:

Kurogiri, as the owner who hires people shunned and maligned for their quirks to give them a sense of belonging and worth

Tenko, as the anxious, angry young man forced by his dad to find a job or be kicked out onto the street

Touya, as the lead baker with mysterious burn scars who teaches Tenko the trade while teasing/challenging him constantly

Toga, as the energetic pastry chef who loves her crushes, blood, and the art of food in that order

Spinner, as the barista who no longer hides his mutation quirk and is fiercely protective of his friends

Magne, as the manager who's more like a big sister to the staff than their supervisor

Twice, as the prep cook with a sad past but hopes for the future

Mustard, as the high school student working the counter part time and always coming up with "experiments" when no one's watching him

Atsuhiro Sako, as the supply salesman with a flair for the dramatic

Plus, Moonfish, Muscular, UA kids/teachers, and others appearing as customers

Basically, Tenko applies for a job as an assistant baker because 1. It's at night so he won't have to deal with people, 2. It doesn't require any previous experience, and 3. His dad threatened to kick him out of the house if he doesn't "stop wasting his life on video games and either get a job or go to school". He nervously shows up for the interview and is surprised at how kind both Kurogiri and Magne are to him despite his awkwardness, scars/skin, and his quirk. In this AU, people with quirks considered "potentially villainous" are closely monitored and treated as if they're destined to become criminals (a lot like the reactions to Shinsō's quirk). His father often brings up how Tenko accidentally killed the family dog when his quirk activated for the first time at the age of four or five. Years of mental and emotional abuse like this reinforces the idea that his son must have been born bad and any attempts at striving for something will end in failure.

To Tenko's pleasant surprise he gets hired. His first night on the job starts with Kurogiri teaching him how to mix dough and put it through a machine that turns it into bagels. (BTW, I work as a baker at a bagel shop, which is how this silly idea came about.) Tenko tells himself it's just like playing a video game, and quickly starts getting the hang of things.

Then he meets Touya, who's supposed to teach him the actual baking process. Tenko's immediately annoyed by Touya's attitude and teasing ("You Decay any of this equipment and it's coming out of your paycheck, mophead"). He throws himself into the task, determined to shut Touya up. And secretly, Touya's impressed by his show of determination and tackling something new. He hopes to himself that Tenko lasts unlike other people who fell by the wayside.

And Tenko does stay, getting to know the others who've come to form a sort of family at the bakery. He becomes close with Himiko and Shuichi in particular, empathizing with the isolation they endured and the harsh demands Toga's own parents put on her. These new friendships make putting up with Touya every night worth it.

Then Tenko overhears an angry phone conversation and realizes Touya's not all smooth confidence and devil may care attitude. That his home life may be just as messy and painful as his. Bit by bit, Tenko learns more about his coworker and opens up in turn, each seeing they have quite a bit in common. Rivalry turns to friendship (though it still has a healthy streak of competition). Over time, however, things between them start to shift yet again. The usual jokes ("Aw, did you burn your fingers? Want me to kiss them and make it better?") cause awkward silences and flustered backpedaling. The number of accidental hand touches and bumping into each other increases ten fold. Eventually, it gets to a point where they can't deny romantic feelings snuck up on them when they weren't looking.

Like I said, not exciting or action-packed. Most of the conflict would be about the characters dealing with unhealthy family relationships, overcoming the terrible things they were taught to believe about themselves, and society's crappy treatment of them, I think. And they'd fight both by sticking together and supporting one another rather than being forced to become villains. It'll take on a clearer shape as it's written.

Thanks for letting me ramble! I just wanted to share so maybe my mind will settle down and let me work on this.

LISTEN FIRST ANON, NEVER— AND I WANT TO MAKE THIS VERY CLEAR— UNDERESTIMATE YOUR ABILITY TO MAKE ME SCREAM LIKE A MAD MAN HAVING THE BEST DAY OF HIS LIFE.

Anon, please you need to write this. We all have different ideas, different approaches, different portrayals and points of view. THAT'S NOT BAD. In fact, that's the opposite of bad. That's why we get a great range of fanfics, that's why we can enjoy new things and cry with new genres or enjoy new content.

And I absolute adore whenever people bring their knowledge about something into an au. I could have never come with anything so well written or so complex because I have never worked in a bakery, but you have! You have the ingredients, you have the tools, and look at what lovely au you have created!

I'm obsessed with this. I'm obsessed with the softness of this. This is like a butterfly kiss on your cheek on a summer afternoon while you watch a lake reflect the sky.

I want to know more about this. I want you to tell me more about your fanfic ideas and even if you want, I can help you write this, but please, let others enjoy this as much as I enjoy it. Because it's so so so so good.

A lot of villains fans are looking for this type of comfort. Damn, it is a dream to see a bakery filled with people who are getting better and finally having a chance in life, becoming a family, finding love, fighting their abusers in their own ways.

You even gave them the specific jobs. I'm— 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 this is so well thought. Really, please write this. Please.

[boldlyvoid]

ain't it fun? | part 4

Summary: reader just needs an NA meeting before they have a meltdown, they end up with the best friend they could ever make.

Warnings: chronic illness, hurt/comfort, drug use**! spencer and reader smoke weed together; talks of relapse and recovery. Also, a case involving child abductions, getting engaged, love confessions

word count: 2.4k

a/n: not sure how long this is going to keep getting but I am enjoying adding to it

P1 P2 P3

Days like today suck.

She can’t get out of bed, she’s so hungry her stomach is swirling and screaming and there’s a pain in her intestines that feels like someone is eating her from the inside out but she can’t move… and she has to pee but her legs hurt and her head is pounding from the light. It’s 6 am according to the alarm clock, Spencer hasn’t left for work yet and she’s already missing him.

She manages to make it to the bathroom, sitting there for too long after because she can’t find the courage to stand back up.

“Why?” She whispers to herself before the tears start.

Covering her face as she cries, she’s still sitting on the toilet with her underwear around her ankles, sobbing as Spencer walks in.

He helps her up without asking, he’s seen too many bad mornings now to ask if she needs help, he just knows she wants to go back to bed, so he fixes her underwear and picks her up.

When he finally lays her down with all her pillows, he lowers the temperature in the room to relax her bones and gets her a ginger ale to help with the nausea from the pain she’s in. It is a regular occurrence for her to wake up and feel like she’s dying, but Spencer was wonderful when dealing with it.

He’s in the kitchen for a while, she’s worried he’s making something for her to eat that she’ll have to lovingly turn away because she can’t do it right now. Her throat is too tight and it hurts to swallow or talk.

She can hear him talking… he’s on the phone with someone.

When he comes back in, he cuddles into her the way he knows she likes. Soothing his hands over her back in a way that helps the pain while also helping her feel like she’s not alone in all of this. He’ll never understand; but he loves her, so a part of him feels it too.

“You called out?” She whispers against his chest.

He nods, his cheek resting on the top of her head as she feels the friction. “I don’t feel good when you don’t feel good.”

“I’m sorry you had to help.”

He’s told her time and time again that he doesn’t mind.

He would kill for her, he’d clean up the mess if she killed someone. He’d even dig the fucking grave if she needed him too… he wasn’t opposed to being there for her no matter what that entailed.

She just hated the fact he had to, he knew her apology came from her hatred of herself and not the fact she felt sorry for him. She loved the help, it made her feel loved until she felt disappointed in herself for needing it.

“Do you want your medicine?”

She smiles finally, “if you mean my secret joint stash— yes, but if you can’t handle being around me like that, then I don’t need it today.”

“I think I’d like to try it,” Spencer whispers. “If you can smoke weed and not relapse then I think I can too?”

“Probably, but if you can’t, I’ll support you however you need me to?” She smiles up at him, he kisses the tip of her nose as she kisses his chin.

Getting high with Spencer is… interesting to say the least. He doesn’t want a full hit, he just wants a taste and so she takes a drag and blows the smoke from her lungs to his. Sharing a part of themselves in a way they never expected before, this is his most vulnerable moment and he was trusting her with it.

The sunshine hits his face in such a perfect way that as they lay side by side, she can watch his pupil devour his iris as he gets high. Their breathing is steady and their fingers are interlocked. They’re content just blinking together, in the sunshine, quiet. In love.

Her body is so calm, and her mind is slow as she takes it all in and he looks so relaxed. He’s not jittery or caffeine-deprived like most mornings; he’s not anxious or stressed or trying to find a way to pretend he’s fine before leaving for work again, only to come home sad.

He’s okay.

She’s okay.

“It's nice,” he whispers, “but it’s not as good as you.”

She smiles, trying not to laugh at how his thoughts are going to be all jumbled for the next few hours. He’s going to be smart yet stupid at the same time and she couldn’t fucking wait to hear all the things he thinks of.

“I know what you mean,” she agrees.

“This is like a tidal wave..." his ramble starts and she is so excited to see where it takes them. "A tsunami that rushes and relieves just as quickly." His eyes are closed as he talks, visualizing his feelings and it makes her giddy.

"You’re like a volcano; there are so many stages before mass destruction, and even then there’s still the ash cloud and the debris and the lava dries like rocks… the destruction is total and the cleanup will be brutal.”

“I’m addicted to you," his eyes are closed as he talks, visualizing his feelings and it makes her giddy. "Drugs are boring and you’re not,” Simplifying his meaning as his eyes open again.

“I love you,” he says with the same certainty as the first time.

“I love you, too, Spencer,” she didn’t think they’d go down this path when she was blowing into his mouth, she expected him to panic or get horny.

“I don’t think I’ve ever really told you how much.”

He shakes his head lightly, “I wouldn’t be opposed to knowing.”

If she thinks it over, she’ll abandon ship before she can tell him, so she just jumps into it.

“I was a little scared to ask you to help me lock my door that first day because I thought you’d think I was just some junky who couldn’t get their shit together. But the second you asked if I had a local group and you helped me; that was the moment I knew I wanted you in my life for forever.”

He smiles, silent so she can keep going. He’ll take his turn when she’s really done.

“And then when we got to talking it was like I knew you already. Like I had your memories in my mind and as you told me things I was like well duh! Yeah, that’s my Spencer! I don’t know how it happened so fast. One minute you’re a stranger and the next you’re the only person I ever want to see for the rest of my entire fucking life,” it’s more passionate than she expected as she rambles on.

“I can’t get married on paper without losing my disability, but I don’t give a fuck about a piece of paper or someone officially giving us that title one day, I’m content just staying in this bed with you for the rest of time and never moving again.”

He looks like he’s about to explode with love as he presses his lips together in the softest smile. He can’t keep quiet any longer, “are you asking me to spend the rest of my life with you but not marry you?”

She laughs at the realization, “I think so?”

They’re trying to kiss but it ends up more like laughing with their mouths touching and teeth occasionally clashing. It’s hysterical because of the marijuana, sure, but they’re high on each other. It’s everything they’ve ever wanted.

To find something better than drugs; that little purpose in life comes back, that drive to see tomorrow because there are good memories to be made with their favourite person. She’s not afraid of the darkness or the unknowing anymore, Spencer’s her guiding light.

He's holding her close to his chest after a while, "are you feeling better?"

"Of course," she smiles, "I've got my weed and my reid."

His laugh is everything as it fills their space again. This was how the rest of her life was going to feel, and it made her excited for tomorrow.

—

She’s feeling a lot better later and they need Spencer to help Penelope back at work, but he doesn’t want to leave her. She’s in sweats with a blanket on her lap in the corner of Penelope’s office, a book in her hand and a coffee on the table beside her as she listens to them bicker back and forth.

“If you hack the NSA we can no longer use all this as evidence if he’s brought in alive, Penelope!” Spencer whisper shouts at her, afraid to raise his voice at her but wanting to get his point across.

“Hotch needs the aerial shots like yesterday, and the NSA won't get them to us in time for this kid!” She yells back.

“Call google…” Y/N suggests, flipping through her book.

“What?” Spencer looks at her like she just said the dumbest thing ever.

“They’re taking photos constantly for their maps program, my mom was saying our new roof is now on the updated map. They might have all the photos saved up, if the FBI asks nicely they might work with you…” she explains, pressing her lips together in a tight smile.

“You’re a genius!” Penelope shouts, dialling the phone and getting JJ to work his media magic for contact at google.

Spencer's smile is one she hasn’t seen before, he’s not only proud of her; he looks a little turned on. She just cracked the case by knowing all the little hacks about the internet as part of her day job. She lived online, and now she was saving lives because of it.

It was a good case to help on, she got to see 3 kids go home to their parents and know a terrible man was going to rot in prison for the rest of his sad and pathetic life. The hard part was seeing them go through months of footage of this guy's yard, seeing the child-sized holes he dug up. The disrupted earth and the knowledge of what happened when there wasn’t picture proof.

—

They go to a meeting after work.

They sit side by side, her leg is crossed and resting over his knee as their arms are linked and fingers interlocked. They really couldn’t be any closer if they tried. They just wanted to listen today, to know they were in a room of people who were trying, people who understood and battled every bad feeling they did.

“Y/N,” the group leader calls her out just before the end of the meeting, “it’s nice to see you back here with Spencer, we heard you found another group but it’s nice to see you here for the support.”

“Thank you,” she smiled. “I’m sorry I couldn’t stay, but as you can see he is distracting.” She gestured to how they were sitting with a small giggle. “I like coming here if you guys don’t mind me occasionally dropping by?”

“By all means,” another member, carol, spoke up. “Spencer is a great sponsor, it’s nice to see him happy.”

She didn’t know he was a sponsor but he thanks her for the compliment, it turns out almost everyone in his group turned to Spencer for support. It was comforting to everyone there to know the real, chemical and biological reasoning behind their addictions. Spencer provided a sense of calm for all of them, like a younger brother; they all loved him dearly.

They’re still holding hands as they walk home, the sun is still setting and it's barely even 7 pm. All the lights on the street are on, shops are closing and the sidewalks are bare. One store is still open however, across the street, she can see the big storefront window, illuminated with the brightest lights to show off a new collection of rings.

“Do you want one?” He notices her eyes darting to the light like a moth to a flame.

“What?” She zones back in when he stops walking.

“A ring, do you want to get one?” He clarifies with the softest voice.

She nods softly, “you should get one too though, seeing as I asked you and everything.”

He grips her hand tighter and they dart across the street. Giggling like children running to the playground, they’re almost out of breath from laughing as they open the shop door with a ding. Smiles on their faces, joy in their hearts, it makes the shop owner swoon as she sees them.

“Did you just get engaged?” She pries with a knowing smile.

They nod, “we just need some rings,” Y/N adds.

She waves them over, “well I’m going to need our sizes first, here try these on.” She hands them what looks like a thin ruler with holes spaces out.

Y/N attempts to find the right one, fitting the best into the 9 and a half. Spencer fits into the 11 on the first try like he knew already and the woman just laughs at the way Y/N glares at him with love.

“What kind of rings are we thinking? Do you have a preferred cut, style, size, or colour?”

It’s a lot all at once and she’s never really thought about it, “I love my grandma's ring, do you have any vintage styles?”

“I have vintage-style rings as well as some restored rings from the '20s and '30s,” she brings out a jewellery box from under the counter. “These are all appraised and unique.”

When she takes the lid off, Y/N’s eyes widen at the view. There are at least 50 rings in their velvet beds as they wait patiently to be tried on; all different shapes sizes and colours like she said. It feels a little overwhelming at first but then her eyes land on a green one. She takes it out slowly and slides it over her ring finger.

It’s perfect.

Spencer picks out a nice gold band to match, he pays and the lady is so happy to watch them leave hand in hand with their new rings. Dedicated to each other forever and ever, he was her person for the rest of time because he said so and that’s as good as a piece of paper.

She’s a completely different person from who she was when she woke up; twirling down the street with the love of her life, high on loving him as he makes her laugh and holds her hand. He stops in the middle of the street and places his hands on her cheeks, drawing her in closer.

“Loving you is so much fun.”

“Ain’t it fun?” She agrees with a smile before pressing their lips together.

taglist:

@g0lden-cth @doctorspenceryeet @samuel-de-champagne-problems @reiding-recs @ssavanessa22 @spookyspence @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria@reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor

[obsidianfr3sk]

five valentine’s day that went wrong and one that (almost) didn’t

@queercreators event 02: romance — [ five valentine’s day that went wrong and one the (almost) didn’t ]      [ “Five Things” Fic ] “

dedicated to my dear Reneweys [ @nodrianbcyes @honey-hippie-harper​ @healing-winston-pratt @alecjamesartino @bluenoctuary-art @everyone-has-a-nightmare ] ♡

Summary: They always managed to ruin their Valentine's Days one way or another, but it didn't matter. Because there was no way they could ruin what the two of them had.Boy, he would like to see someone try.

AO3

Well, hello there!!! It’s been a while since the last time I posted something x’d I know I always say the same thing but it’s true skjdfhkjdfs I started this fic during the first week of febreary when I had this shot of adrenaline and started to do a lot of creative stuff, and originally I wanted to post this during Valentine’s Day, but... the shot of adrenaline passed x’d and let me to deal with this alone.

As you can see for the description, this a “Five Thing” fic. At first I wanted to post each chapter seperately, but idk, it seem a little bit... weird x’d so, here in Tumblr, the six chapters are all in one post. If you don’t like the format, but want to read the fic, you can find it on AO3! Don’t forget to leave kudos and a comment if you liked it:’)

Now... I’m not used to write happy sttuf in general x’d AND I’M LESS USED TO WRITE HAPPY STUFF ABOUT HUGH AND SIMON BECAUSE SKJDFHKJDSF the angst, dudes:))) but I think I did. Like... I actually wrote a fluffy fic:’) I’m so proud of myself dkjfhkfdshjk

Tag list: @the-lady-with-the-pen @chiyuki-hiro @all-weather-is-bad @styeenza

First try

Year 2

It was the second Valentine's Day after the beginning of the Age of Anarchy, and the capacity that the human being had to adapt themselves to the most terrible of conditions never ceased to amaze him. The economy had collapsed, the government had fallen, his school was practically one of the last ones still in open, and there was a “fucking junkie” ruling the city...

But the world celebrated Valentine's Day anyway.

Or at least in his class did.

The teacher had brought a bunch of cardboard boxes, that looked like she had fought with some tramps to get them (which she probably did, they were too many boxes for one person to generate) (unless she was a crazy person who collected boxes). She gave one to each one of her students, took out the last bottles of paint, pieces of colored cardboard, and rusty scissors, and then told them that today they were going to learn how to make a mailbox.

At first, Hugh had no idea what turning a box into a mailbox had to do with the curriculum the school was supposed to follow. It's not like people sent a lot of letters anyway. But when the girls got excited, he remembered that February 14 was something like an important date. And then, he remembered an activity that they did during his first year, when everyone decorated a box for their classmates to put letters and sweets in it.

First year… And now he was in his third year.

Time flies by.

After telling them which parts to cut into (Hugh had to share his scissors with other three classmates because there weren't enough for everyone), she invited them to pick the decorations they wanted to put on their mailboxes. The girls pounced on the pink, red, and even white paint, while most of the boys laughed, saying it was a stupid activity and they didn't want to do it. Hugh felt the urge to agree, but he didn't

He had already tried to make them like him. It hadn't worked for him.

So he grabbed a bottle of navy blue paint, some cartoon bear stickers, some notebook paper, and a bitten pencil. That would be enough to make his mailbox and his cards.

After a while, he started to have a good time. Crafts had never been his strong suit, but he was proud of how it ended up looking. One couldn’t tell his mailbox used to be a cereal box because the paint he used was so dark, that it only needed two coats of it and it dried much faster than Abernathy’s, who had practically finished the pink paint trying to hide the face of that missing child in the milk carton box the teacher gave to her. Hugh realized that she was holding her tears back, and as the good classmate that he was, he told her not to worry, that the missing child could be decoration if she painted him a mustache or something, and it would look very funny. Abernathy, far from finding it funny, acted super offended, assuring she had never met a child as rude and insensitive as Hugh Everhart, and she ran out of the classroom, hiding her face in her hands and screaming like a baby.

Unfortunately, the rest of his class agreed with her, and when it came time to deliver the cards, Hugh did not receive a single one. Although he doubted it had anything to do with that missing boy thing.

They wouldn't have given him anything anyway.

He wasn't sure if they knew he was a prodigy. Maybe they had noticed that it wasn't normal that Hugh had practically broken a chair in two when he placed his backpack on it to get something out, or that he had left the PE teacher unconscious when he accidentally threw a ball at his face while they were playing soccer. The teachers, if they noticed, didn't say anything. After all, that school was supposed to be only for normal kids.

Not prodigies. 

But children could be very insightful. Most likely, they did notice and therefore did not want to be associate with him.

Or maybe— 

Maybe they just didn't want to hang out with Hugh, because of… that.

Because he was Hugh.

He decided to wait for everyone else to leave before starting to cry (or before breaking another chair, whichever came first). Or at least that was what he was about to do when he heard that someone had come up with the same idea as him and started crying first. 

Simon Westwood had never been too talkative. Even before his older sister and mother died, he liked to sit at the last table, not speaking to anyone, and some older kids were constantly picking on him, without any teacher trying to do anything to stop them.

Not that Hugh was paying much attention to him or something.

The teacher practically ran to see what was going on with Simon Westwood, asking him what happened and why hadn’t he finished decorating his mailbox. Simon Westwood tried to explain it to her, but he was mumbling his words so neither the teacher nor Hugh could understand what he was saying. 

Hugh didn’t get mad with him though. His mom had died. His sister died too, a couple of weeks later. He wouldn’t be in the mood for doing cheesy crafts if the same had happened to him. But the teacher wasn’t as benevolent as him, and started to say things like she was trying really hard to bring joy to her students, and that she was sure that if he tried a little bit harder, he would be able to enjoy Valentine’s Day, like the rest of them. 

“Let’s see what nice things your classmates have said about you,” she exclaimed. But that only made Simon Westwood start crying again.

No one had given him a card. 

Like… no one.

And Hugh was listening to all of this conversation, just sitting there, trying to stay as stiff as he could so they wouldn’t notice he was there (as if he weren’t literally right in front of them). Seeing Simon cried like that made him think that maybe he was just acting though when the other kids laugh at him because of his looks, his ratty old clothes (older and rattier than theirs), or just—

His mind exploded. 

He suddenly understood why the other kids didn't like Simon Westwood. It was before he was him.

Just like how they didn’t like Hugh Everhart because he was Hugh Everhart. 

When the teacher went out of the classroom with Simon, saying something about calling his dad (although he knew they wouldn’t be able to do that, since no one had a functioning phone those days), he took one of the cards he did for his classmates, cards that he never gave to them, and put one inside Simon Westwood’s mailbox/cereal box. He had left his backpack and his things there. When he came back to take them home, he would see the card too.

A voice in his head told him to get out of there before he came back, but another one told him to stay. Maybe Simon Westwood and he could be friends. Maybe he would understand what it felt like to be hated just for the way you were born. Maybe he was a prodigy too. 

Or maybe he wasn’t.

He couldn’t take that chance. 

So Hugh went home, but promised Simon Westwood (and himself) he would keep an eye on him. 

After all, friends were there to have each other’s back. 

Because they were friends, even if Simon didn't know it yet.

Second try

Year 9

They were friends. 

He had never seen Hugh before meeting him on that alley where Simon got his powers. Like— he had seen him because he was in the same class as him, but he hadn't really seen him. During his childhood years, Simon was more focused on other things. Like being a little depressed and anxious ball with skinny legs and skinny arms, for example.

It wasn’t like he wasn’t depressed or anxious now. Nor it was he had gotten super muscular all of the sudden, like Hugh (he had always been bigger than the other kids, but he practically turned twelve and already looked like a teenager, except for the voice and the face). 

But at that moment, he wasn’t depressed or anxious. He felt weirdly at peace. 

He and Hugh were walking down the street, thinking about which store were they going to rob that day to get dinner for them and their families, when Simon noticed a couple holding hands in front of an abandoned café. She had dark hair and he had blue eyes, which looked at his girlfriend as if she was the Virgin Mary or something. Then, she kissed him and gave him a small blue flower and a heart-shaped card. The guy looked so moved by the gesture that he kissed her on the lips again, with so much more passion than before. 

Simon looked away before they realized he was looking at them, not only because he didn’t want to come off as creepy, but also because he knew how awkward he would feel if they started to make out or something. 

“Love is in the air,” Hugh sang.

Simon chuckled. “You noticed them too?”

“I noticed them when she gave him the flower,” he told him. “I had never seen a girl giving flowers to a guy before.”

“Times have changed, I guess. That’s why they don’t feel uncomfortable giving such public displays of affection. Kids in our day weren’t like that.”

“I know, right?” said Hugh continuing with the joke. “They are so perverted. There are children present, for God’s sake.”

Simon chuckled again and Hugh stopped to tie his shoe. While he was there, Simon noticed he was throwing glances at them. 

“You know, giving them the death stare isn’t gonna prevent them from being in love,” Simon told him.

“I can try,” Hugh joked. Then, he shook his head. “It’s not that. I just—”

He waited for him a couple of seconds before asking, “Just what?”

He finally answered, “Someday we’ll have something like that.”

Simon frowned. “Huh?”

“You know,” Hugh mumbled. “We’ll have girlfriends and— and all of that.”

“Oh!” Simon exclaimed. “Yeah, someday, yeah.”

But before Simon could keep talking about it (or just develop some opinion on the topic) Hugh shrugged and urged him to keep walking. “I guess. I didn’t even remember today was Valentine’s Day though. They were my reminder—” he turned around and waved at them “—Thank you, exhibitionists, you reminded me what day is it!”

Now, Hugh probably didn’t mean for them to hear him say that. Simon knew him well enough to know Hugh thought he wasn’t being loud, but the thing was… Hugh was always loud. He could be “whispering” and the whole neighborhood would hear him ask Simon if he knew how bars with strippers worked because he did know, and wanted to brag about it. Then, Simon would feel embarrassed, because, in fact, he didn’t know how bars with strippers work.

Simon immediately turned around and realized the girl was looking at them with an expression he couldn’t read. He turned invisible and pushed Hugh inside of an alley, hoping those trashcans hid them well enough in case the guy turned out to be a freaking animal and wanted to kick their flat asses for calling them exhibitionists. 

Simon felt the anxiety kicking in, when Hugh started laughing so loud, that said anxiety turn into the need of punching him really hard on the arm.

So he did it. Multiple times.

“Dude, dude, shut the fuck up, dude,” Simon said keeping his voice low (because he could keep his voice down, unlike others), “that guy’s gonna kick our asses, for real. Dudeeee—”

But his voice kinda cracked when he said that “Dudeee—” and that made Hugh laugh even more, so Simon kept punching him, using a vocabulary that would make the most dangerous of gangster blush. And he probably would have kept hitting him, if the anxiety of being discovered hadn't been overshadowed by how weird it made him feel to see his best friend laugh.

When Hugh laughed, his cheeks would turn red and his eyes would water. They could be in the most embarrassing situation ever, one where no one was laughing, and if he found it funny, he was going to do it, because he wasn't going to be able to help it. And it wasn't like Simon would stop him, either. Not at all. He liked it when he laughed. 

Even though he ended up making him laugh too. Like at that moment.

Most of the garbage ended up in the drains, the sidewalk, or anywhere else except where it belonged, the trash can. Generally, Hugh always refused when someone hinted at sitting on the floor, precisely for that reason. However, on that occasion, the two were sitting in that stinking alley, throwing pebbles at each other, playing with some bottle caps they found on the ground, and arguing about who would win a bare-handed fight, Wonder Man or Phantom Feline.

They decided it was time to go home when a cat-sized rat appeared out of nowhere, and the two of them came out screaming like idiots, even faster than they would have run if that guy with the girlfriend would have chased them. They ran until they reached Simon's house, all sweaty and tired, their hands on their bent knees and breathing heavily.

Then Hugh laughed again. And his cheeks were flushed again, and his eyes were watery again, and he made Simon laugh again until Mr. Westwood came home from work and told him to go inside, that it was too late to be outside.

Once he was locked in his room, with his younger sister playing in the living room and his father in the kitchen, the image of that guy kissing his girlfriend did not make him feel anything. So, he tried to imagine kissing a lot of girls that he considered a thousand times more attractive, but just when it seemed that the idea was beginning to be something desirable, Hugh came back, with his laugh, his screams, and his eyes, like one of those freaking trains that he dreamed of having the opportunity to stop one day and that never missed a single chance to tell Simon all about it. 

The truth was that Simon did believe that Hugh might be able to stop a train with his bare hands, but he doubted he would be able to stop the train of thought that Simon hopped on whenever he thought of him. And he was so ashamed to know that not even the strongest prodigy on the planet was capable of doing that, that he decided to take those memories from the collar of the old blue hoodie that each one of them wore and bury them alive in the backyard of his memory.

Forever and ever.

Thrid try

Year 12

Two months ago, after their first date, Simon told Hugh he would never plan another important date, forever and ever. But now, Simon had let him plan their first Valentine's Day together without putting any objections, proving that he trusted him. And he was happy for him; Simon had always had problems when it came to trusting other people. It was nice to see the other grow to become a better person. 

And it was even nicer when you were no longer only friends, but a couple. 

So yeah, he wanted to make Valentine's Day special. It was kind of a big deal. 

Georgia and Tamaya brainstormed with him places he could take Simon to. They all agreed that it had to be a place safe enough and that it wouldn't put them in a situation where they had to reveal their powers, and by consequence, their secret identities. But then, everything started going downhill, especially because Georgia had some very odd ideas (like something about flowers, a choreographed dance, and poetry) and Tamaya was as romantic as a rock (“Just don't end up nearly killing yourself in front of him, that should be enough.”)

It was February 13th, and Hugh was on his cot, a bit angry at Georgia and Tamaya, not only because they couldn't help him on such an important mission as they promised, but also because they blamed him for their failure, telling him that he "had no imagination" and that he "thought with his dick", just because he thought all their ideas were horrible. 

Maybe he should have phrased that better... 

Simon and Evander slept on the bunk bed Simon used to share with his younger sister. Simon was taking a shower, so he was all alone with Evander and Kasumi, who sometimes went there to visit her best friend, even if Tamaya told her not to do it because it smelled horrible in there and she would bring the odor to the girl’s bedroom (Hugh thought the room didn't smell bad at all, and if it did, it was because Evander acted like he was living in the street yesterday and had no sense of personal hygiene). But Kasumi didn’t seem to mind, and she spent most of her afternoons cuddling with Evander on the top bunk, while she read an old book and Evander read one of Simon’s comics (because Hugh would join the Anarchists before letting Evander touch his comics).

They started whispering at each other about who knows what, and even though he kind of wanted to know what they were talking about, he was just too tired, so he decided to put a pillow on his face and try to fall asleep. But then, he heard, quite clearly, that they said his name. 

And he couldn’t let slip that. 

He pulled the pillow off his face, and said, “What are you saying about me?”

They both peered over the edge of the bunk. “We were talking about how you're not good at romance,” Evander replied.

The audacity of that b— boy.

“You are eleven years old," he told him. “What are you going to know about romance?”

“No more than you,” Kasumi acknowledged, very solemnly.

Hugh made his “See?” face and he looked away.

Then, Evander asked, “Why don’t you take him to Cosmopolis Park?”

Oh, stars. He couldn’t be serious.

Cosmopolis Park.

A freaking theme park. 

Evander was eleven, all right. His idea of a date was probably something out of a princess movie he and Kasumi watched from time to time (sometimes Tamaya joined them too and she always acted like she was just watching it to make fun of it, even though everyone in the house knew she had a weird soft spot for cheesy princess movies). But Hugh was technically an adult now. He should know better, and knowing better was not taking your boyfriend to a theme park for Valentine’s Day. That wasn’t very romantic.

“What a stupid idea.”

Kasumi got red all of the sudden. For the look at Evander’s face, Hugh knew he had fucked up even before she said, “It was my idea…”

“Oh— no, Zoomie, I… what I meant was that—”

“Don’t fix it, bro,” Evander interrupted him. “You’re gonna make me want to punch you more.”

He wasn’t afraid of Evander punching him because he couldn’t compare a kid’s strength to his, but he obeyed him and mumbled a small, “Sorry.”

The “sorry” was for Kasumi though, not for Evander. If Kasumi hadn’t been there, he probably would have told Evander something like “Oh, yeah? You’re gonna punch me, little punk? Come on, punch me, don’t be a pussy” (and then Georgia would have stormed into the room, telling him not to use the word “pussy”, and they would have pointed at each other saying “He started it!”)

After giving him a goodnight kiss, Kasumi got off Evander’s bed, with the book under her arm. Before leaving the room, she knelt beside Hugh to kiss him goodnight, as to show his comment didn’t cause her to feel any kind of resentment towards him.

Because of course it didn’t. Kasumi was like that.

“I was just saying— Valentine’s Day is also a day to be with friends,” she whispered. “And you and Simon are not only boyfriends but also... you know, friends. I bet that wherever you take him, it'd be magical for both of you. Because you find magic in each other's company, even before you knew you were in love. So... why not?”

She turned off the lights on her way out.

He never thought Kasumi’s tendency to romanticize everything was odd or weird. It was something that he expected from a teenage girl, especially one who has such a vivid imagination. But he also never expected that imagination would help him in some way. And he never expected for her to say the exact words he wanted to hear, even before he knew he wanted to hear them.

She was so wise.

Cosmopolis Park didn’t sound like a bad idea anymore when Simon entered just after Kasumi, wearing his pajamas, and asked him with a teasing voice, “So… where are you gonna take me tomorrow?”

Hugh didn’t know if Evander was already asleep, so he just smiled at him and told him it was a surprise. Simon rolled his eyes and gave him a soft kiss on the nose before getting into his own bed. 

It was his way of telling him he trusted him. And relationships were supposed to be built upon trust. He didn't need anyone to tell him that.

As far as he knew, Simon hadn't been to Cosmopolis Park in years, probably before the Age of Anarchy began. It was no secret that the park was currently full of gangs and drug addicts but it was still a relatively peaceful place. At least peaceful enough that the park was full of families, groups of friends, and tons of couples.

Although there weren’t any couples...

Well, there weren’t any couples like them.

He wondered if Simon noticed that small detail too, but when he turned to ask him that, he knew it would be better if he just kept his comments to himself. Because he wasn't an expert reading other people's emotions, but Simon...

Simon looked so happy at the moment.

The two walked side by side, their shoulders brushing against each other's, but their hands tucked deep into their pockets. Hugh was trying to keep his eyes fixed forward to avoid bumping into anyone, but the small chuckles Simon let out every time he saw something that surprised him, made said task impossible. Suddenly, he no longer wanted to avoid the embarrassment that would cause him to bother someone by bumping into them; he wanted to look at him.

He wanted to look at him trying to hide his laughter by covering his mouth with his hand, as if he wanted to suppress some kind of dark feeling, without realizing that his joy was so full of light that it was practically impossible. He wanted to continue to see how his dark eyes, with very long lashes and deep bags under the eyes, perfectly captured the lights of the Ferris wheel and the food trucks. He wanted to see the tiny smile he had the entire time they were at the park because even if Simon didn't smile like that very often, when he did, Hugh felt as if he was witnessing the most wonderful of miracles.

Hugh took his hands out of his pocket, and when he turned his attention back to Simon, he was looking at him too. They stopped in their tracks, not caring that people passed around them, sometimes unintentionally pushing them a bit or stepping on their shoelaces. 

Hugh took a step forward and Simon did too. 

Then Simon pulled a hand out of his grey jacket's pocket, making him wonder if he was dreaming or if it was really going to happen.

Hugh held his breath and felt the blood rush to his face, along with the overwhelming feeling that everyone around him was staring at them, with the newly acquired gift of recognizing those two faces that always hid behind pair of colorful masks and now were gazing at each other with true devotion. He desperately wanted to know what was going through their heads, he wanted to know if they still considered them worthy of their admiration and respect, and he wanted to know if he had been right when he assured Simon that, someday, the two of them would hold each other in public without thinking it twice.

But then, just as Simon's fingers brushed his cheek, his attention was completely diverted to someone behind Hugh.

“Are you talking to me?” he asked awkwardly.

Hugh turned to see who his boyfriend was talking to. He was a slightly older man, juggling three balls and standing on the table of his own stand. He was smiling at Simon and he had a mustache that quite frankly made him look like a ridiculous comic villain.

“Yes, you!” and he threw a ball at Simon.

Simon covered his face with his hands, but Hugh caught the ball before it hit him.

Who did this guys think he was?

The guy, far from mocking Simon's reaction, seemed intrigued. “Do you want to win a prize, big guy?” he asked Hugh.

Hugh was ready to say no to him in the kindest way he could, when the guy pulled out a laundry basket, like the one Georgia put on his head every Sunday, saying "Laundry time!" in a voice so high that made birds explode. 

“You just have to throw that ball you have in your hand—” he raised the basket “—here. And you can win a prize.”

He finally gave him a chance to reply. “No, thank you, we’re fine.”

He shoved his hands into his pockets again and told Simon to keep going. But the guy did not give up.

“I see,” he crooned from afar. “Your dad didn't play ball with you and that's why you don't think you're capable of throwing it correctly. It’s fine.”

Simon put his hand to his mouth as if thinking "Oh, stars, he did not."

And Hugh looked at him as if thinking "Oh, but he did."

If that guy knew who he was talking to, he would probably think it twice before making comments to strangers mocking their lack of a father figure.

So he turned abruptly and threw the ball into the basket.

If Hugh had been a little calmer, he probably would have been able to remember that, before leaving the house, Tamaya had told him that theme parks were full of games that had the sole purpose of scamming people and that one of them was that game in particular. The balls bounced so much that even if they made contact with the bottom of the basket they would jump back to whoever threw it, making them technically lose.

He would also have listened to himself, to Hugh, who told him that it would be best to turn around and get on with their lives, and not to Captain Chromium, who was determined to win that freaking game because he won every single game the world put in his way. 

After three balls, the guy turned to Simon, extended his hand at him, and told him, “It's fifteen dollars.”

That was enough to make him lose his mind. Hugh told him that it was not worth arguing with him, but Captain Chromium did not tolerate that people tried to take advantage of him, and he spent about ten minutes screaming with the mustachioed man, until Simon panicked (or lost his mind), grabbed one of the balls and threw it right in the man’s eye.

Then, he did take Hugh by the hand.

But just to be sure they both got out of there before someone tried to stop them.

They ended the evening at a hamburger stand several blocks away from Cosmopolis Park (because obviously, they weren't going to stay there after the show they had put on). They did not have enough money to buy two sodas, but they bought a strawberry juice carton to share and sat on the sidewalk to eat their hamburgers of doubtful provenance, ranting against the man, against the park, and, especially, against those damn balls.

“I can't believe there are people like him breathing the same oxygen I breathe,” Simon commented, before taking a bite out of his burger ravenously. “He had no right to make that joke.”

But Hugh was so distracted by how attractive Simon looked when he bit his hamburger like that all he could say was:

“If my dad knew I couldn't win that stupid game, he would abandon me again.”

Simon frowned a little bit, repeating the sentence in his head until he finally understood the joke, and laughed so hard he began to choke with his food. Hugh started to panic and told Simon he would give him five back blows like he read he should do when someone started to choke. That was enough for Simon to spit his food on a napkin. Both were so grossed out by it, that they started laughing again. Simon hid his face on Hugh's shoulder, practically using his fit of laughter as an excuse to snuggle against him, and Hugh used his own angriness as an excuse to stay right there, telling the entire world to go to hell, and willing to keep doing it forever, just as long as the conversation didn't end and they had to go home. 

Georgia and Tamaya would kill them. It was already late at night. 

Fourth try

Year 17

It was already late night when they arrived at the motel.

Simon had stayed invisible the entire time they were at the reception like he always did when they had one of those more… private nights out. Hugh was the one who was in charge of booking the room because Simon got too anxious anyway at the mere idea of ​​having to interact with one of the receptionists.

It was one thing for his entire family (or the Council, as they had been calling themselves lately, as a joke) to know that tonight he was going to have sex. Strangers knowing it was a completely different thing.

He still wasn't quite sure which one was more embarrassing, but yeah. It was different.

He only became visible again when Hugh closed the door behind him.

Simon looked at the huge sports bag that Hugh carried with him. “What you got there?”

“Nothing important,” he assured with a shrug. He was smiling like he was a kid getting a bunch of presents at Christmas, and Simon was extremely happy too, so, without asking any more questions, he kissed him on the lips and went to the bathroom to give both of them time to get ready.

Not that they hadn't done that before. They didn't like having such intimate moments in the house. And even if they had wanted to, it was practically impossible to have even a minute of privacy there. The last time he had slept in a room by himself had probably been… never. And the number of occasions someone had opened the bathroom door while he was there were more than he could count. The door lock had been broken for a few weeks but nobody knew how to solve the problem because they had no idea how doors worked. Georgia had tried to implement a serious policy of knocking before entering any room with the door closed, but the only one who paid attention to her was Adrian because the rest of them were simply too used to walk around the house as if they were in their own houses. (That they were their house, but it was more Simon's house than theirs.)

In fact, it was the first time in forever that he was in a bathroom and he didn't have to put his hand on the door, to stop whoever tried to open the door before they ended up seeing him in the most vulnerable of positions, so Simon took off his T-shirt, his jeans, and sat on the toilet, wearing his underwear and his jacket, trying to enjoy his first moment of privacy in a long time.

At least until his legs started to feel cold and Hugh told him that he could go out now.

When he came out of the room, Hugh, who was lying on the bed, widened his eyes. Simon was already ready to hear a flattering comment, but instead, he frowned and asked, “Are you going to leave your socks on?”

Simon looked at his feet automatically. He had indeed left his socks on.

He didn't see anything wrong with it.

“The carpet is filthy,” he replied. “I don't want to get fungus or something like that.”

Hugh found no fault with his logic. “Okay, but take them off when you get on the bed,” he asked.

Then Simon realized that Hugh, not only never stopped doing that ridiculous pose that pretended to be sexy throughout the entire conversation, but he also had thrown out the (probably dirty) bedsheets from the motel bed and put instead one of the blankets they took out of the closet to cover themselves during winter.

So that's what he carried in his sports backpack.

Hugh seemed to realize that Simon was looking at the blanket and not at him, because he immediately said, “Oh, I hate motel bedsheets.”

Simon couldn't help but laugh. “You hate them?”

Hugh finally stopped doing that ridiculous pose and sat down. “You just never know who sleep in them before us, Simon,” he replied, “and you never know when was the last time they washed them. Maybe they— ” he pointed to the pile of blankets thrown away “—are covered on the… bodily fluids of twenty other people, and you want me to lie on them? Is that how you want us to make love? Like animals?”

Simon kept laughing, but Hugh wasn’t laughing. “Simon, stop it!” he exclaimed. “A new class of bacteria could be there, ‘cause— oh, I am convinced that those things have a new kind of bacteria no one has discovered yet, and— ”

And he went silent when Simon put his hands on his shoulders, still with a smile on his lips.

“What?”

“Hugh, have I ever told you I think you're really sexy when you out crazy me?” Simon asked, running his fingers through his hair.

Hugh stood still, looking directly into his eyes. “No, I think you haven’t.”

Simon shrugged. “Well— I think you're really, really, sexy when you out crazy me.”

“Well, I think… I think—“

Hugh could no longer continue his sentence. Even though Simon wasn't doing anything to stop him from speaking.

He was literally just standing in front of him, one knee leaning on the mattress and one hand on Hugh's head.

“You think?” he asked him. “That’s new.”

“Simon, wait, I'm trying to seduce you,” Hugh said.

Simon took a step back, pointing to the bathroom door. “I think I’d wait over there.”

“No, wait—” he gently grabbed his wrist before he could move further away “—I’m starting to… Let me think of something.”

Simon chuckled. He put his knee on the mattress again and Hugh grabbed him around his waist, pulling him close to him and resting his head on his chest, while Simon rested his chin on his head. He had just taken a bath when they came out of the house, so Hugh’s hair smelled of him and lemon zest because they have been using dish soap as shampoo the last week.

That was the kind of privacy that they sometimes lacked at home. He was no longer talking about sex. Simon craved to have him like this, so close to him. Both in their underwear, both in a practically unknown place, and both completely vulnerable, but together. Feeling at home, even if technically they weren't.

Because Hugh was his home.

He was sure he saw him that way too.

Simon was so focused on trying to capture that moment in his memory so that he could repeat it over and over again for the rest of his life, that he was totally thrown when Hugh blurted out:

“I think you have a nice dick, dude.”

Simon broke the hug ... “What?”

Hugh’s cheeks turned even redder. “Tell me I didn't say that.”

He put a hand up to try to hide his laughter. “No, I think you did.”

He still couldn’t believe that was Hugh’s best try to seduce him. And apparently, Hugh couldn't believe it either.

“Then— forget about it,” he stammered. “Let's all of us forget about it.”

Simon realized that he tried to grab him by the waist again, but he moved away just in time, pretending to be extremely offended. “So I don't have a nice dick.”

“Let's just stop saying the word dick, please.”

“You started it.”

“I PANICKED, ALL RIGHT?”

“PANICKING IS MY JOB!”

“I’M TAKING YOUR JOB THEN. AND I’M GONNA STEAL YOUR BOYFRIEND TOO IF YOU KEEP LAUGHING!”

Simon didn't try to pretend that he wasn't laughing, because he was more than aware that it was already too obvious at this point. 

So he decided it was better to play along.

“No, don't take my boyfriend!” he exclaimed dramatically, putting his hands on his shoulders. “Take me instead.”

Hugh took him by the waist and pulled him close. Simon didn't try to walk away this time. “Deal.”

But when Simon was about to start kissing him, he diverted his attention from Hugh for a split second, making him realize the curtains were wide open. “Oh, shoot, wait— the curtains.”

Luckily he hadn’t taken off his socks yet.

With quick steps, he headed to the window. He put a hand on each curtain and was about to close it completely when the lights of a car approaching from the end of the street caught his attention. It was a yellow sports car that looked more like a ripe banana than a vehicle.

Shit.

It stopped a few feet past the motel they were at. Out of it came a short man, with scars on his face and thin hair, and a tall blonde woman in a yellow dress, very inappropriate for the occasion. Not because it was provocative thought. It’s just that no one would wear such an expensive-looking dress in such a dangerous neighborhood unless they wanted to be robbed.

Or that they had enough status not to be.

Simon turned to see Hugh. “Hey—” Hugh looked up slightly. “—Come here.”

Hugh obeyed, a little bit confused, after putting his socks on (obviously). Simon had closed the curtains just enough for them not to be noticed but also not so much that they couldn’t see what was happening on the street.

Hugh gasped. “Are those—“

Simon swallowed hard. “Cyanide and Queen Bee in person.”

“What are they doing here?” 

Simon had as much an idea of ​​what Queen Bee and Cyanide were doing there as Hugh had, but he responded with the first thing that came to his mind anyway.

“Probably celebrating Valentine's Day,” he replied. “What a shitty place to take your girlfriend during Valentine’s Day though.”

At least take her to a motel. Like I did with Hugh.

“Do you think Queen Bee and Cyanide are together?” Hugh asked Simon.

Simon shrugged. “I don't know, but I know Queen Bee has a thing for Ace Anarchy.”

He had the slight hope that Hugh would take the bait and give him a chance to discuss his theories about Queen Bee's fixation with Ace Anarchy (which he always talked about with Tamaya), but Hugh, despite being very nosy, just kept quiet, watching Queen Bee and Cyanide argue outside the car.

How could that woman walk in such big heels?

“Or maybe Cyanide is the one who has a thing for Ace Anarchy,” Hugh blurted out suddenly.

Simon turned to see him. “Wait, really?”

“Don't be so heteronormative, Simon,” he scolded him. “Plus, I've never been in the cathedral, but I bet that when you enter there, it reeks homosexuality.”

“Dude—”

“I just know.”

And they kept watching. 

There was something very personal about seeing two people arguing from a distance, like old ladies peering out of their home windows whenever the neighbors had a particularly loud fight. Simon almost considered it romantic.

Then, Queen Bee tried to turn around to turn her back on Cyanide, but something went wrong with her heel and she went face first towards the sidewalk, letting out a scream that could make someone think she was being murdered, and causing Cyanide (and the two of them) to laugh out loud.

How could that woman walk with those heels? Well, apparently, she couldn't.

The tension he felt when Cyanide interrupted his laughter and turned around as if he knew someone was watching them, made him remember that they were not gossiping old ladies peeking out of the window of their house and that those two were not some neighbors having a little fight. No, they were Dread Warden and Captain Chromium, stuffed into a hotel room like they were fugitives from the law or something, and those two little people in the middle of the street were two of the most feared and powerful villains in the world.

There was nothing romantic about that.

So Simon immediately closed the curtains. 

But now neither of them was in the mood to have sex anymore, really.

“We should do something.”

“I'm on it.”

Hugh was already crouched slightly by the bedside, pulling his unmistakable superhero suits out of his sports bag.

Simon was so puzzled that he couldn't even stop to enjoy the… image that Hugh was inadvertently giving him by bending down like that.

“Wait, did you actually bring our supersuits to our date?” he asked him.

“Yeah,” he replied without looking up.

Who knows what kind of demon got into Simon at the time, but a not very family-friendly thought crossed his mind, and that thought was the one that made him ask, “Why?”

Hugh, completely unaware of what he was thinking, handed Simon his clothes and dropped the two pairs of boots on the floor as he sat in the bed. 

Only the stars knew how he had managed to fit a blanket, their shoes, and their suits in that sports backpack.

“Because I thought something like this was gonna happen,” he explained while putting on his leggings. “You know, crime doesn’t celebrate Valentine’s Day the same way we do.”

Oh.

The little not very family-friendly thought hadn't been right then.

Simon felt a bit sick admitting that he wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed.

“Oh. I thought...”

Hugh looked at him, intrigued, and a second later, he understood what Simon was thinking. “Oh, stars, no. I was not thinking about that.”

“All right then.”

Now it was Hugh's turn to watch him change. Simon knew that was what he was doing.

Because he knew his look better than he knew anyone else's.

When he was fully dressed, Simon reached out to reach for his shoes, and Hugh put his own hand over his', to get his attention.

He already had the mask on, but he could see that he had turned red. If Simon had been white too, he probably would be redder than him. 

He swallowed. “Unless— unless you're into it?”

Simon swallowed too. But he didn’t plan to answer him right now.

It had been hard enough to put on their suits. They didn’t need to start taking them off. 

So he pulled his hand away and started putting on his shoes.

“Hugh, the villains—” he reminded him.

“Right, right.” Hugh brushed off his knees. “The villains. That’s important.”

After making sure the door had the lock on (and that said lock worked), they turned off the lights, Simon turned invisible, and Hugh climbed onto the roof, pushing himself off the window frame as fast as possible so that Queen Bee and Cyanide, who were turning their backs on them, standing in front of the door of an apparently abandoned building as if waiting for someone, did not see him. Afterward, Simon followed him, assuring him that he could climb on his own.

The two remained hiding behind the building's water tank. Well, Hugh was behind the building's water tank, and Simon was in plain sight, invisible, with his hood on and his cape fluttering behind him, making him feel…

He wanted to say that it made him feel heroic, but the truth was that Simon also felt very sexy when he got into this mysterious and threatening mode. 

Simon turned his hand visible and pointed at them as if to say "Are we going or what?"

Hugh turned to see them with a frown, analyzing the situation. But when Simon was about to ask him what they were waiting for, Hugh turned to see him, with the same smile he had on his face when he was about to let the world know the coolest plan of all the plans, completely ignorant that in reality, it was the dumbest thing he had ever came up with.

“Wait, I have an idea.”

And in that situation, Simon had to take the role of being the one to tell him that his idea was bullshit and that it wasn't going to work, but he used to listen to his idea before expressing his comments about it. Not only because he didn't like talking without knowing all the facts first, but because may he could go to Tamaya the next day and tell her what had happened in the last episode of Hugh Had an Idea And It Went Wrong.

(They also enjoy episodes of Evander Acted Like An Animal Again and Queen, Realize That Junkie Doesn’t Care About You, Please.)

“Do you remember that song Evander used to sing to us?” he asked him.

Oh, Simon remembered it and cringed every time he thought about it.

But the cringe wasn't enough to stop him from singing the song.

“The Warden and the Captain are sitting in a tree—”

Hugh cringed too. “That one, yes. Stars, I hate it so much—” and he pointed to Queen Bee and Cyanide “—Let's make them hate it too. ”

Simon seriously tried to take his role as the voice of reason in that situation. He let his imagination (or rather, his anxiety) run wild, making him imagine the thousand and one scenarios in which that specific fight could turn out worse than they usually did if Hugh made that comment. Queen Bee would probably call Hugh a "lesbian" (“You have a lesbian haircut, honeybun, accept it”), Cyanide would go crazy trying to find Dread Warden to melt his skin slowly and painfully, everyone would wish death upon everyone, and the only reason the fight would end would be because either Cyanide would finally manage to injure Simon or because Queen Bee’s stilettos would break.

He didn't see how teasing them with an attack worthy of elementary school kids would make the situation worst.

Besides… it was going to be hilarious to see that.

He didn't see why he couldn't co-star in Hugh Had Idea and It Went Wrong.

“I'm in,” he replied, trying not to raise his voice too much. “I'm super in.”

Hugh rose his hand and Simon high-fived him quietly. But Hugh seized the opportunity to take his hand, running his finger across his knuckles. “Okay, but you sing the spelling part, because—”

“You don't know how to spell,” Simon interrupted.

Hugh let go of his hand. “Well, when you said it in that tone, it sounds a little mean.”

Simon rolled his eyes and took his hand again. Then the logical part of his brain (yes, the same one that always insisted on being the voice of reason in situations like that) began to yell at him that he should convince Hugh to let Cyanide and Queen Bee did whatever they wanted, while the two of them did whatever they wanted.

But that the logical part of him had no voice in that situation because the logical part of his brain was not the part that loved Hugh. After all, there was nothing logical in loving the way he made a kind of mini-horn with both hands, took a deep breath, and yelled with all his might:

 “CYANIDE AND THE QUEEN BEE SITTING IN A TREE—”

Fifth try

Year 20

K-i-s-s-i-n-g.

That was what he wanted to be doing. He wanted to be kissing Simon. He wanted to be with him, walking in the park and watching life go by in front of them. The birds singing from the trees, the children chasing each other, and the wind ruffling their hair. The day was going to be so perfect that he was going to be able to ignore homeless people getting high on corners or young people dealing drugs (that should be) illegal, focusing all his attention on Simon and how happy he felt that this time, everything he was going well.

He didn't want to be crammed into the living room with the rest of his family, listening to the thunder and the rain crashing down on the ceiling.

But apparently, that's what he was doing.

Tamaya was sitting on the floor, covering herself with her wings. Simon had sat on the other end of the three-seater couch, looking out the living room window with a thoughtful expression, worthy of a character in a Shakespearean play or something. Evander was leaning over him and had Kasumi on his lap. She was watching him play (or rather trying to play) a Tetris game that he had on his phone, putting her icy feet on Hugh's arm, probably without realizing it, and Hugh was on the other end of the couch, first starting at Simon, thinking of how handsome he looked when he was thinking, and then at Georgie. She had been smart enough to sit on the reclining sofa, which gave her the space she needed to cuddle with an inconsolable six-year-old Adrian.

“The storm will end soon,” she was telling him. “The storm will end soon.”

But that was not enough to comfort Adrian. His mother had already been telling him for about an hour that “the storm will end soon”, but the storm just ... did not end. And each time they heard a new thunder, Adrian let out a howl and clung to his mother with more force, asking her to please not go away.

Everyone knew that when Adrian asked Georgie not to go away, he was actually asking everyone not to go away. If any of them left the room, he would probably lose his mind.

He felt the urge to tell him that she wasn't going anywhere. That wasn’t very Georgie. Georgie didn't leave people who needed her like that, scared, crying, and begging her to stay. So since Georgie didn't do it, neither did the others.

It is not like they could have gone anywhere though.

Georgie realized that Simon hadn't stopped staring out the window.

“I'm sorry you couldn't do anything special this Valentine’s Day,” she whispered. Simon blinked as if he were waking up from a dream. “What did you have planned for this evening?”

Simon turned to see him, disappointed. Hugh decided to answer for him.

“We were going to have a picnic at the park,” he replied.

Georgie blurted out something that sounded like “Awww”, and Evander scoffed.

“That’s gay.” Hugh put his arm behind Kasumi and smacked Evander on the back of his head. “BRO, YOU LITERALLY MADE LOSE ME.”

Tamaya laughed and Kasumi shook her head. “I want to play too—” she tried to take the cellphone and Evander pressed it closer to his chest “—Vandy.”

Georgie intervened (without letting go of Adrian). “Vandy, give Kasumi the phone. It’s her turn. And then it's mine.”

But Evander didn’t want to. 

“But it only has ten percent of battery left,” he exclaimed.

“Perfect, it's more than enough for Tamaya, Kasumi, Simon, Hugh, and I to get a turn too.”

“Hugh punched me! He does not deserves a turn.”

“I didn't punch him,” Hugh said. “I just hit him very slightly.”

“My brain almost felt out of my head.”

“Do you still have a brain?” Tamaya asked. Hugh high-fived her. “I've been thinking about that joke for weeks, dude.”

“Evander Wade, share the phone,” Georgia said. “I'm no longer asking.”

“No! It's my phone.”

Desperate, Tamaya reached out to take Evander's cell phone, and he stood up so fast that Kasumi ended up falling on Tamaya.

“MOTHERFU—”

A thunder. Again.

Adrian started crying. Again.

And they all went silent. Again.

Hugh took advantage of the fact that Evander got out of the coach to move closer to Simon. Evander didn't say anything to him because he was too busy handing the cell phone to Tamaya, who then gave it to Kasumi. Kasumi refused to sit down with Evander again and stayed on the floor with Tamaya (although resting her head on his knees, as if they were a pillow).

Simon rested his head on Hugh's shoulder.

“Next year will be better,” he whispered in his ear. Simon didn't answer him; he only put his hand on the window, leaving the trace of his fingers on it. “Are you all right?”

Simon put his hand on Hugh’s waist and pulled him closer to him, closing his eyes for a while. “I'm tired…”

“Rest then.”

After all…

Hugh was tried too. 

There had never been a day when they didn't have to face a new threat. It seemed that the Anarchists, instead of getting weaker, were getting stronger. Even with the many new allies the Renegades had, no one seemed to have a second of the day to rest. Adrian got more and more nervous when they went out as days passed by, and it was becoming more difficult to calm down him during his tantrums. Even he, who was a child, could feel the tension in the city.

But precisely because of that, because he was a child, he could not understand the enormous responsibility that the Renegades had on his shoulders and that they could not stay with him, no matter how much they wanted to.

Maybe that was why no one had tried to leave the room. It was their way of telling Adrian that they were still there for him.

He was about to fall asleep when Simon pulled him away. His first instinct was to pull him closer, but as soon as he realized that Simon was just standing up, he let go of him.

Suddenly, he looked happier. Much happier than anyone else in that room.

Everyone noticed that change.

“Are you still too tired to celebrate Valentine’s Day?”

Even Hugh didn't understand what he meant.

Evander turned to see Georgie. “Georgie, you told them no hanky-panky in the house.”

“Vandy—” Kasumi intervened.

“Zoomie.”

“Don't say hanky-panky.”

“Yeah, you sound like a grandma,” Tamaya told him slightly punching him on the leg.

Hugh shushed them. “Shhh, guys, let Si talk.”

“No, go on, guys—” Simon told them “—Let us show you.”

And he held out his hand.

Obviously, Hugh accepted it.

He had no idea what Simon was planning to do, but he wasn't too tired not to celebrate Valentine's.

He was never too tired of him.

Adrian immediately reacted to this. “Hey, no, don't go...” he cried, stretching his little arms towards them.

Luckily, Simon looked like he already had that covered.

“We're not going anywhere, Adrian,” Simon assured him. “You are coming with us.”

Adrian and Georgie's eyes widened at the same time. 

“Me?” Adrian asked pointing to himself.

“You,” Simon replied, confidently. “But it's a very special mission,” he added in a lower voice, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You can't tell anyone.”

Adrian rubbed his eyes and Georgie looked up at the ceiling as if she were making sure a new leak hadn't magically appeared. Tamaya, on the contrary, didn't understand, and she stared at the scene, very intrigued by Simon's plan too. Luckily, Georgie noticed it, and with a frantic movement of her hand, told her to stop staring. Hugh made the same move, but this time, directed at Kasumi and Evander.

When Adrian opened his eyes again, everyone but the two of them was pretending they weren't listening to the conversation.

“What mission is it?” Adrian asked in a thin voice.

“Look, we can't go out to celebrate Valentine's Day,” Simon explained, “but what we can do is bring Valentine's Day here with us.”

Adrian looked puzzled.

“Hey, but you're going to need a superhero name to be able to participate in the mission,” Hugh commented, trying to get Adrian more interested. “Do you have any ideas?”

Simon scratched his beard, thinking. “Hmm, very good question, my dear Captain,” he commented. “Maybe—”

“Oh, I know what superhero name I'll have,” Adrian exclaimed, grabbing Simon by the cheeks. “Hey, your beard feels funny.”

Simon grabbed him by the cheeks too. “What’s your superhero name, then?”

Adrian whispered it in his ear and Simon's face lit up. “It's a perfect name, Adrian.”

Adrian shushed him. “Shh, don't say my real name! I have to use my superhero name, remember? It's a mission.”

Evander scoffed again and Kasumi shushed him immediately. 

“And can he tell me your superhero name?” Hugh asked Adrian. 

Adrian stopped to think about it. “Yes, why not?” he finally replied.

Then, Simon stood slightly on tiptoe to reach him and whispered in his ear the most perfect superhero name he had ever heard.

Sketch.

Hugh took Adrian by surprise when he graved him and carried him in his arms, making him gasp in shock and excitement. Even Georgie started to laugh out loud at her son's reaction.

“Ready for the mission, Sketch?” he asked him making his voice lower than it actually was.

Adrian gave a military salute. “I was born ready, Captain!” he exclaimed, moving his feet in the air.

Georgie stood up too. “Where you taking my son, guys?” she asked dramatically.

Hugh placed Adrian on his shoulders.

“Don’t worry, mom,” Adrian told her, “I’ll be fine. I need to accomplish this mission.”

Georgie pretended to start sobbing. “No, but you don't have to, son of mine, you're too young!”

“Listen to your mother, kid,” Tamaya intervened. “Stay with us, stay safe with your family—“ and she passed her wings over Kasumi's shoulders.

“Tamaya has two wings,” Kasumi pointed out. “And they're warm.”

“Really?” Evander asked.

But Tamaya’s face changed immediately. “It's not for you, it's for Adrian.”

“GO WITH THEM, LITTLE SKETCH, GO!” Evander yelled standing up on the sofa. “GO SAVE VALENTINE’S DAY!”

That was enough for Adrian. He kissed his mother on the cheek and told her that he would be back soon. Then the three of them began their journey to the kitchen while the others stayed in the living room.

Simon pulled out a bag of bread from the refrigerator and asked Hugh to pass him the peanut and hazelnut butter jars from the cupboard. Adrian took it upon himself to count the remaining loaves of bread and separate them into pairs, spreading them on the table. Simon encouraged him to count how many pairs there were and Hugh had no problem helping him when he got stuck at number five. Then Simon toasted them on the stove, and he allowed Adrian to pile them up like a tower on a red ceramic plate.

When it was time to make the sandwiches, Simon and Hugh sat at different ends of the table, each holding a butter knife. Simon would spread peanut butter on one of the loaves, Hugh would spread hazelnut on the other, and Adrian would gather them together and wrap them the best he could in a napkin, before putting them in a makeshift basket that Kasumi had made long ago.

“Mommy, no!” yelled Adrian when Georgie dared to enter the kitchen. “It's a secret mission!”

“Don’t worry, don’t mind me,” she told them pretending not to notice what they were doing. “I'm just gonna prepare myself some strawberry milk.”

As soon as Adrian looked away, Georgie winked at Hugh. And Hugh winked back.

“I think we're done with this mission now,” he replied using that ridiculously deep voice again. “You have to break the news to the rest of the team, Sketch.”

Adrian jumped out of his chair and practically ran into the living room, holding the basket with sandwiches in his hand.

The three of them had been so into their mission, they didn't realize that the others had put several blankets on the floor and Tamaya was cursing under her breath for being unable to use a lighter to turn on the candles. Kasumi approached Adrian, with a VHS in each of her hands, asking him which movie he would like to see, and Evander came over too, but to try and tell Adrian to pick the action movie, not the romance movie the girls wanted to see.

Simon seemed like he wanted to join the conversation too, but Hugh thought he had done enough. And he meant it in a good way. So he took him by the hand and they lied down on the couch, not caring that perhaps one of the others wanted to sit on it.

Adrian had already chosen the movie (he chose the period drama over the action movie, thankfully) when Georgie walked into the living room with a stack of plastic cups under her arm and a jug half full of strawberry milk, carrying it as it were a trophy. During her birthday, everyone in the house had raised money to buy her a huge pot of strawberry milk powder, which they made her promise that she would not share.

Some promises could not be kept.

The adults got two sandwiches each, but Adrian had practically all of the strawberry milk. Throughout the movie, Kasumi was sighing and muttering how much she wanted to wear a dress like the one the main character wore in the movie during that elegant dinner. From to time, Tamaya frowned and muttered something about how problematic she found a line or scene. Georgie braided their hair and when she finished, she would undo the braid and start over, laughing out loud at Evander's comments about how horrible the romantic interest looked and that he did not understand how that was the ideal of beauty that women had. Adrian fell asleep in Simon's arms about halfway through, and about that exact time, Hugh began to notice that Simon was starting to have a hard time trying to stay awake.

He looked adorable when he was thinking, but he liked it even more how he looked when he was falling asleep.

He kissed the back of his head. “Are you tired?”

He nodded slightly. “Yes… but never of you.”

Hugh kissed him again. “I was thinking the same thing.”

“What thing?”

Georgie turned around for a second and realized that Adrian had fallen asleep. She stopped braiding Evander’s short hair (for some reason, Evander had let her braid his hair) and sat on the recliner chair, hugging Adrian like a stuffed animal.

She winked at him once more. And Hugh winked back, one more time.

“Nothing— ” he laid himself more comfortably on the couch and allowed Simon to get on top of him, resting his head on his chest. “—Sleep for a while.”

Simon made no further objection. “You too.”

Hugh did not fall asleep. In fact, he stayed awake for the three hours the movie lasted, even though by the time the credits started, Tamaya was snoring and Kasumi and Evander were under her wings, rolled up, and cuddled up to her. Georgie ended up falling asleep on the couch, covered in the same blanket Simon used to cover himself a few hours ago.

When the clock told him it was 7 PM, Hugh knew it was time for them to go patrol. However, the rain had gotten even worse, and Simon...

Simon looked so peaceful.

He hadn't realized how deep the bags under his eyes had gotten, nor that his face hadn't looked as relaxed as it looked right now for weeks, because he frowned most of the time. He hadn't held him that close either or had the opportunity to give him as many kisses as he had been doing in that time. Not because he didn't want to, it was just ... well, they had been busy trying not to die.

How tiring it was to try not to die.

He knew Simon was tired because, again, he was tired too, and he bet that the rest of their family felt the same as them. But Simon was the only one who had overcome his tiredness and his moodiness to just... make them forget their sorrows for a moment. 

He was like that.

Hugh gave him one more kiss on the cheek.

Thank you. 

If Simon had been awake, he would have asked him "Thanks for what?"

And Hugh would have answered him, "For just being you."

Someday they would get their happy ending. But for the moment, all he wanted was to be crammed into the living room with the rest of his family, listening to the thunder and the rain crashing down on the ceiling.

He doubted that happiness would ever end.

Sixth (but not last) try

Two years after the Day of Triumph.

Just over a year ago, Simon had been on the roof of the same building he was currently in. Of course, it looked very different from how it looked now. It didn’t have any windows, no furniture, and, obviously, no electricity. It was the vile shell of what had once been one of the most beautiful skyscrapers in the city. Simon was thinking about that when he realized that he did not have a single memory of having seen that place when it was in its maximum splendor and that the only proof he had of it was the stories of those adults who arrived before him.

That sooner or later, he would become one of those adults. Those who told stories of the past to the generations that came after them.

He thought of Adrian. He thought that there would come a time when he would be curious to know certain things that happened and would ask questions that Simon would not be too sure how to answer. Not precisely because he didn't want to or because he thought he wasn't ready to hear the truth; he just didn’t know those truths at all. 

Why did people change for the worst? How did the world use to be when prodigies weren’t divided by heroes or villains?

What happened to Lady Indomitable?

How did the world use to be before she was gone?

Then Simon, with tears in his eyes, looked up at the crescent moon and the six stars lined up in such a way that they seemed to form a smile. He hadn’t seen anyone in his family smile for… a very long time. 

Because when Georgia Rawles left, she took with her their capacity to smile. 

Yet, at that moment, Simon could feel her. He could feel her when he was crying, asking her to please fly again and to help him get down from that skyscraper. He felt her hugging him, keeping him from falling to his knees and cutting his skin with the shattered glass that was on the floor. She promised him that she would never give up on him and assured him that every time he saw the sky, he would find those six stars forming that smile, which from that moment on, would be hers. 

Simon didn't want her to make promises, but… it was Georgie. His Georgie. The Georgie who made pinky promises even though she was about to turn thirty because you were never too old for pinky promises. The Georgie who always protected him and never gave up on him, even though there were times when Simon thought she should.

So since she was his Georgie, Simon accepted the promise. As she turned around and rose again to the sky, he wondered what would happen when the city was so full of light, that the stars (Georgie’s smile) faded away and everyone, including them, forgot about them (about her). 

But, after all this time, Simon was looking at the stars, on the roof of that same skyscraper that had now been turned into a fancy restaurant, holding Hugh's hand across the table, and noticing that Georgie was still smiling at him from above.

As it always should be.

“Did you ever expect things to turn out like this when you were little?”

He turned to see Hugh again. “What things?”

But Hugh kept staring at the stars. Simon didn't care. He liked to think that the sparkle in his blue eyes was due to them. “Us.”

Simon shook his head, “No,” he answered when he remembered Hugh couldn’t look at him. “Did you?”

Finally, Hugh saw him again. “I think that when I was little, I didn’t know one could be as happy as I am with you right now.”

Simon rolled his eyes. 

“I'm serious,” Hugh insisted, taking him just a little tighter by the hand. “I'm so glad we finally made it out.”

Simon leaned forward slightly. “We really did, huh?”

Then, Hugh gently pulled him closer to him, making their foreheads bump and closing his eyes. “And I'm so glad that now, nothing bad is gonna happen to you, to us, and to what we have.”

Simon closed his eyes too. He would have liked to promise Hugh that it would be like that. That this new chapter of their lives, the chapter of getting married, having kids, and rebuilding a city together, was would turn out as well as the last one, when they fought crime, defeated the bad guys, and held hands only when they were not wearing the armors that protected them from the outside world. 

But he could not promise that. And anyways, Hugh was not very fond of promises. He said they were very easy to break.

So he grabbed his chin and gave him a quick kiss on the lips before saying, “It's getting late. We should ask for the check.”

Hugh nodded and called a waiter. He noticed that Simon was reaching into his pocket and quickly told him not to do it, that he got it. Simon knew there was nothing he could do to make him change his mind, so he instead just asked if he could get a slice of chocolate cake to go. Adrian would love to have chocolate cake for breakfast.  

The waiter returned a few moments later with the bill (and Adrian’s chocolate cake). Simon almost winced when he saw the amount of money they had spent on a meal that hadn’t been that good in the first place (although he did not know if it was because of the lack of ingredients or because gourmet food kind of sucked). However, Hugh didn't seem at all concerned and reached into his pockets to get his wallet.

Suddenly, he leaned his elbows on the table. “Simon.” 

Simon leaned his elbows on the table too. “Yes?”

“Have I mentioned you look very handsome tonight?”

He tried to remember. “No,” he replied. “But thank you for noticing. I even took a shower.”

“Wow,” Hugh exclaimed with too much enthusiasm. “Feeling fancy today.”

“I do feel fancy today,” Simon replied, adjusting the jacket he had put on over his pink button-up shirt at the last moment because Hugh had told him that the restaurant had a pretty rigid dress code.

Simon almost didn’t put on the jacket out of pure spite. In fact, he spent all the way ranting about how it was stupid to have such a specific dress code in a place like Gatlon City, and that he bet that the owners of that restaurant, who now were acting like total snobs, had spent most of their lives wearing only a t-shirt and old jeans, like the rest of them.

Hugh, who had been wearing the jacket from the beginning (a blue one), was quiet, listening carefully to what Simon was saying until he blurted out:

“We can do something else if you want to.”

He didn't say it in an “I’m hurt by your comment” tone. Instead, he said it the same way he would tell him that they could watch another movie or that they could get take out instead of cooking dinner. He said it as if the reservation he made was not at stake, or as if he hadn’t been sending him hints of wanting to go to that specific restaurant since New Year.

Simon knew that if he had said yes, Hugh would have taken him wherever he wanted. However, Simon also knew that it didn't matter where they went. They had spent Valentine's in an alley, at a fair, fighting villains, and in a house too small for seven people. And in all those places, he had a great time.

Surely that place was… snobbish, but he could have a great time there too.

After all, they were together. 

He was sure Hugh knew that too. 

Hugh nodded, agreeing with him. He hardly ever agreed with someone other than himself anymore.

“Is this your strange way of making me say you look good too?” he asked him then.

And Hugh’s smile grew bigger. “Simon Westwood, you are the love of my life,” he replied taking his hand, “and this is my strange way of telling you I forgot my wallet at home.”

Simon laughed so loudly that the other customers turned to see him. But he couldn't care less. He kind of wanted them to saw them. He wanted them to notice how much he was laughing and he wanted them to see him kiss Hugh as he reached for his pockets…

Oh, no.

“Hugh.”

He tensed. “Yes, dear husband of mine who’s going to pay for this dinner?”

“You look good too.”

That was enough for Hugh to realize that Simon had also left his wallet at the house.

The two remained serious for a long time. But then, Simon could see how Hugh's brain clicked in a very strange way, which made him see this whole situation as the funniest thing that had ever happen to him.

He kissed him once more.

They always managed to ruin their Valentine's Days one way or another, but it didn't matter. Because there was no way they could ruin what the two of them had.

Boy, he would like to see someone try.

[captainshazamerica]

If this Bruce doesn't adopt Tim I will! But I'm kinda scared for Tim I mean he's either gonna end up with Buce or the titans at some point, im afraid that something terrible is gonna happen his family and then titans/bruce takes him in? That boy loves batman and robin so much like even his family seeing the news knew how much it would upset him although I will say that for the brain that kid has he makes some pretty stupid decisions, hes driving around GOTHAM plastered in the bat-symbol that's not a good idea! the amount of lunatics that roam free in Gotham (and possibly have escaped from arkham) and hate the bat and hes driving around with the bat symbol on him KID be careful!

Some kind of Anti-fear toxin does seem more accurate cuz he's clearly taking something to not be afraid. Maybe it's something he found in Gotham and decided to try it and got addicted so he's using that lab place to try recreate it? and maybe he can't recreate it perfectly cuz in the crowbarring scene he seemed kinda anxious about his surroundings and he'd just taken that inhaler thing to overcome fear so I dunno?? Or maybe he went to arkham to see Crane for some reason and Crane has orchestrated the whole thing and told him about the drug but then wouldn't Crane have to know everyone's identity then? Dude I dunno I need more episodes even tho the low quality glitchyness is painful lol

There's probably an abundance of rooms to choose from at Wayne manor yet Jason takes Dicks old room and keeps the flying graysons posters up! I like to think that he does view dick as an older brother and just took his room to kind of have a connection to him and that he admires him hence the graysons posters being left up, yooo dick calling him his brother! I really want a nice family reunion with dick jason and bruce 💕

Babs was too mean to bruce when she went off like I get where she's coming from but yo lady his son just died dial it down like a notch yikes but also babs being like 'i wonder how long it'll take for bruce to replace jason and dick is all 'what no the last thing bruce is gonna do is rope another kid into this mess'. Cut to scene of Bruces potential robin folder 😅 but I also like that dick was trying to be considerate and compose himself for bruce but once he found out that bruce is idiot enough to pull another kid into this, that that's when he got mad and bruce so brokenly begging dick to come back and be robin 😢😢😢

I know the show is constantly trying to push bruce out/sideline him cuz it's a titans show not a bruce wayne show and I know they're going for a different portrayal of bruce which I'm not complaining about I do like this version of bruce (more than I thought actually) and this universe but I feel like they could have gave more cracks you know, I like that they showed him trying to avoid the reality of jasons death and just not stopping not even for a second and just immediately jump into another case and that breakdown verge where he's begging dick to be robin and then when he finally I guess let's the weight of jasons loss sit on him to the point where he whacks in jokers head with a crowbar just like he killed jason (he could have killed joker so many other ways like a less violent bullet to the head but oh no brucey crowbars him to death!!)

There's a lot of character stuff that i do like but that scene where he's in the cave on his knees scrubbing his sons blood out of the suit he died in, the suit that he only ever wore because of batman. 😢 I feel like they could have had him crack there and let out a gut wrenching scream and then just continue on doing what he was doing as if nothing happened and dick walking in on that should have had more of a reaction!? like he could have stopped in his tracks at the sight of his brothers blood all over his father and bruce screaming, dick could have like took a step back almost like he's gonna run but forces himself to stay there, because who wouldn't want to run from that and no matter how much horrible things you've dealt with before sometimes your brain does just take over against your will and makes you react, the rest of the scene just could have played out the way it did. Literally one ounce more emotion is all I wanted.

No one really emotionally cracked at jasons death. I get that it just happened and that people put walls up and denial can be such a prominent thing when a loved one dies but it couldn't have been that difficult to put in little mannerisms now and again to show that everyone is deeply hurt but holding it in. Honestly gar seemed more hurt to me than dick did. But I do like that dick reacted in detective mode and started trying to figure things out from jasons side so at least there's that.

This redhood is defo not an anti hero he has well and truly landslided into villian territory and I dunno how that's gonna be reconciled? they better not kill him off! and they better not just straight up keep redhood/jason as a full on villian! but if they do get through to jason and bring him back a little how the heck is that little man gonna deal with what he did to Hank?? I feel like they had a bond you know and for all Hanks talk about putting Jason down I really don't think that Hank would actually have killed him even if it came down to Hanks life vs Jasons I think Hank would rather die than kill Jason (but that's heavily biased cuz in my mind jason is my son and I freaking love hank sooo) but Hank to me puts on a hard front like 'yeah I'll get in your face I'll come at you b*tch' but internally he's like 'yeah I'll come at you to help you' 😅 like internally he defo has a lot of soft spots though that's not to say he'd be like this for someone like the joker or scarecrow or whatever guys like that he'd be like no screw you you die or go to arkham like byeee

Nevermind how jason is gonna come back from this though HOW IN THE ACTUAL SH*T is dawn gonna come back from this!!?!!

Random side note here but imagine Jasons first time in the batcave he would be so excited and trying to mess with everything and being like ohh what's that do and pressing random buttons and bruce having a hernia trying to get jason to stop before he accidentally blows the cave up 😅 also he has probably been caught several times trying to 'borrow' the batmobile, I can just picture him trying to sneak down the halls of the manor without the floor creaking and making it all the way into the cave and doing a victory dance cuz he didn't get caught and he hops on into the batmobile in his pj's and let's out a scream cuz alfred is sitting in the freakin passenger seat waiting for him and then they just hang out in the batmobile alfred had the good foresight to bring a flask of tea books and a blanket for jason

Speaking of Alfred I think it would have been more angsty and hurtful if Alfred died shortly after Jason and after a few days Jason claws his way out his grave and the first thing he sees is Alfreds headstone and that's how he finds out Alfred died : (((

This is so long girl I'm sorry I know it doesn't seem like it but I did restrain myself 😅 one more thing before I go maybe this Dick is the absolute worst mf and the reason babs feels betrayed by him and is so upset with him could be that he left her (or cheated on her) with Dawn cuz of that weird flashback thingy in the other season where dick dawn was a thing I dunno I hope not though that would be ughhh

Oh crap, you right about probably something bad will happen to Tim for Bruce or Titans to take him in, I was gonna say he could just demand to be in their lives to save Bruce/Dick like in the comics but he also has kinda shitty parents normally and these people seem cool so really it could go either direction, but like it’s Titans so it doesn’t look good lol. Also, I wonder if it’s gonna be Dick who is basically gonna adopt him this time since we already had a huge track record in just 2 seasons lmao. But I know right, true I like how his parents knew immediately how much the news would effect him 😭 I hope he goes down the making himself robin and forcing himself in Dick and Bruce’s life xD I love that route. Lmao, the kid is all book smart, very little street smart when it doesn’t have to do with outsmarting someone XD

I was also rewatching and that gas he takes def has to be some anti fear toxin cause he mentions fear so many times and flash backed to his near death fall, which he felt was probably holding him and back and thus had to prove himself and adds to whatever is influencing him. But ohhh he did seem pretty dang anxious at the carnival grounds, that’s a really interesting theory but recreating something he found hmm, I can see that.

Apparently according to a YouTube who got to see the first 5 episodes, we find out what his deal is a lot more in episode 5, so one more week hopefully

Brooo trueee, I couldn’t believe jason took dick’s room and like didn’t even change anything. Like Jason looks or at least use to look up to Dick SO much, like in his first episode in the first season, he went on quite a lot about how much he had always wanted to meet him and how much he looked up to him, which is probably also fueling his red hood rage, being hurt by your idol and brother like he did in S2 must have really just killed the boy. But yes omg, there freaking better be a dang family reunion scene like, after so much angst we deserve that 😭

And yesss, I loved seeing how mature Dick is getting and just how much he is growing as a character, the fact he was so calm and considerate with Bruce at first really shows that compared to s1 Dick, only breaking when Bruce tried to get more kids involved. That scene by Brenton was sooo well acted omg, the way he yelled that he doesn’t want to robin again, heartbreaking man. And Bruce begging like that omg

Yeah, this version of Bruce is def so different than any Bruce we have seen on screen before, like def the most emotionally constipated, and that’s saying something xD But I like how they are taking a risk, it also helps Dick’s character more and give him more of an arc, as he seems to be taking on Bruce’s normal role with Jason and red hood. Bro, you are so right omg, like the fact Bruce could have killed the joker in any way and he does it with the dang crowbar. It really shows how broken he really was and why the man shouldn’t depressing any and every damn feeling and emotion lol.

Omg, I love how you have the exact details of what you wanted to happen in that one Bruce and Dick scene 😂👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻 bro if you dont already you should totally write fanfics cause that was so detailed, I love it

Yeah, I do wish someone cracked (other than Bruce lmao) a bit more, but I do think each character reacted in character though, like it is very Dick(at least this version of Dick, other versions may break down tbh) to put everything into solving the case and figuring out what was up, that’s more this version’s way of caring than just breaking down, like he rarely ever has broken down completely. I think dawn could have been a little more emotional about the death (tho she has enough coming for her lmao). Connor didn’t know Jason that well so it makes sense he would just be sad. Gar seemed pretty sad and in character about it, maybe could have had a bit more, same with Kori, tho she showed it by being almost angry and fiercely protective of everyone else, so I think that makes sense for her. It would have been interesting to see how Rachel and Rose would have reacted though (where did rose go btw?! She would so have a reaction to Jason’s death). But yeah, i wish there was more resolution and break downs for Jason, but also it may have just not felt real since they weren’t there? But I agree

You think? Idk, I think they could def still make him an anti hero towards the end, especially if it’s crane behind the whole thing. Cause if they don’t they are gonna have to go down the gosh awful overused villain gets redeemed while he dies/only to die right freaking after , and I will be so freaking livid if they do that omg. Like they better freaking not. But true, he would be broken by what he did to Hank, oh yikes. But I can see him then that leading to the anti hero path, like he would never go back to be on the titans cause he would feel too guilty, thus giving more of a reason for the anti hero life. But I know, I loved Jason and Hank’s love hate relationship 😭😭😭😭 You know Hank secretly loved the kid and probably saw himself in him.

Yikes poor dawn, you right. Like I have no idea how she is gonna be now like wow.

OMG GIRL, You are on a hc angst train today!!!! That scenario of Alfred dying right after jason and Jason climbing out to see Alfred’s?! Heartbreaking!

But I can’t believe they killed Alfred off so casually tho😭

Omg I swear if they freaking show Dick having cheated on Babs I will be so freaking pissed omg, he better have not! Im hoping they had a more high school romance thing/grew up together then got together type of thing

And omg don’t apologize I LOVED IT and reading your asks!!! I feel ya too!

[ohjinkiesxx]

is that lost on you? ||  Self Para

❝ I hate you for what you did & I miss you like a little kid. I have emotional motion sickness. Somebody roll the windows down. There are no words in the English language I could scream to drown you out. ❞

Place: Elias, Shaggy’s apartment that she so happens to be at 24/7

When: June 12th, 2021

Tw: shitty parents? anxiety.

Since moving to Elias Velma rarely heard from her parents. and if they did it was only to wish her happy birthday or to reprimand her on her grades that didn’t exceed their expectations. It got to a point where every vibration of her phone set off her anxious tendencies. Friends like Kiara and Shaggy got to witness the brunt of her trauma firsthand when she had first arrived to Elias. Over the years Velma had to go through a lot of self love and patience to realize that it was okay that she wasn’t perfect. She didn’t have to exist just to please people, even if they were her parents. So once Velma graduated to college she began ignoring calls from back home altogether. It wasn’t worth the time nor the stress to worry how her parents felt about her living her own life. It was a hard decision to push them away. She still loved her mom and dad but they needed boundaries for their relationship to work. If they ever wanted a relationship with their daughter they’d have to work on themselves first.

Lately her parents were the last thing of her mind. She had Daphne and Shaggy to keep her occupied. She wanted to put more effort into her relationships with her childhood best friends because they were the only ones who ever really understood her. Fred was still a work in progress though. Either way she was happy. Truly genuinely happy.

It was a normal night at home, like any other. She finished her papers and left her desk in an unorganized mess. She figured she’d binge Netflix until Shaggy got home from his shift. After spending so many nights together it was hard to sleep in their bed without him. He became a big source of Velma’s comfort and security. It wasn’t all lonely though. She had Scoob to keep her company on some nights. Velma crawled into the couch resting her head on the armrest as Scooby joined her and laid between the back of her legs and the cushions. There was barely any room to move but she didn’t mind. “Either we need a bigger couch or you’ve gotten bigger Scoob.” Velma spoke to the dog and began to give him under the chin scratches. Once she was comfortable and she had her show on she could barely keep her eyes open any longer. Under estimating how exhausted she was. It wasn’t long before she was consumed by sleep.

Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzz!

Quickly Velma was awoken by the sound of her phone vibrating against the oak of the coffee table. Rubbing her eyes she quickly glanced around the room. Scooby had long since left her side and Shaggy still wasn’t home. Swiping her phone from the table she answered it without hesitation or reading the caller information. She had assumed it was Shaggy. He usually always called her when he was on his way home. “Are you on your way home?” Velma hummed sleepily into the speaker.

“Velma? You haven’t been answering my calls.” Immediately her stomach dropped. Knowing from the first spoken word that it was her mother on the other end of the line. Velma quickly sobered up and sat straight up as if she were sitting on pins and needles. “Uh-yeah. Sorry mom I’ve been busy with school.” Which wasn’t a complete lie. but she had other distractions. “Mmm.” Her mother quickly mused. “Yes and with the Rogers boy it seems..” She retorted her voice laced with venom. Velma could already sense where this conversation was heading. Her mother hadn’t called to check up on her only daughter. No, she was angry that she didn’t have a tight reign on her daughter anymore. Velma had recently posted a few pictures of her and Shaggy on Instagram recently. Hinting in the captions of the pictures that they were in item. “He has a name mom. And so what If I am? What does it matter to anyone but me?” Velma hadn’t meant for her tone to be just as vicious but she was tired of defending her friends especially Shaggy. “Do you know what they are saying back home about you? My daughter with that idiot? Have you truly not learned your lesson? You know better. I raised you not to hang out with those meddling friends of yours.”

Velma’s blood was boiling at this point. She had no right to comment on her boyfriend or her right to have a relationship with him. Her fingers gripping the edge of her seat so tightly that her knuckles faded to white. She stopped herself from saying something she’d regret later. Besides something her mother had said caught her off guard. “Lesson? What do you mean lesson?” She asked hesitantly feeling in that moment as if she didn’t want to know the answer at all.

Her mother paused. There was silence between them for a moment. Her mother took in a small inhale of air through her nose before she continued. “You wouldn’t listen Velma. Your father and I had high hopes for your future but you kept hanging out with the wrong crowd...”

“Mom...” Velma interjected, her heart beating fast against her chest now.

“Those kids. They were no good for you, surely you know that? They aren’t even on your level. You’re much smarter than them, you needed to be with your own peers. People who understood you intellectually. But you kept rebelling against our wishes. We had to intervene.”

“Mom. What did you do?” Velma asked tears already stinging her eyes as if she already knew the answer. It was something Velma had often wondered about but never got a genuine answer too.

“You needed to learn your lesson. So your father and I took initiative. You’d only be rewarded when you were ready to act like an adult. So we hid your Harvard acceptance from you.”

There it was. The answer Velma had always wondered about. Why Harvard had never contacted her back. She was never sent an e-mail or letter about her application. It was like she hadn’t sent one in at all. It was her dream to attend Harvard. It was her only dream as a teen that her parents couldn’t take away. and yet they still did. Velma couldn’t believe it momentarily. Laughing as if it were some sort of twisted joke. What kind of parents would take away their childs privilege to attend a prestigious school to further her education? What kind of monsters would take away their Childs happiness in order to be taught a lesson?

From her mothers silence she quickly realized it had been the truth. Velma couldn’t even speak, her throat becoming suddenly dry. She was hurt but it was a common feeling her parents often left her with. If one thing was for sure she was going to stand up for herself. She’d no longer tolerate being trampled on. Even if that meant not having a relationship with her parents at all. It wasn’t worth keeping ties just for the sake of blood.

“That’s the most fucked up thing I’ve ever heard. Do you have any sort of maternal instinct in you? Or are you completely avoidant of basic human empathy?” She spat.

“Velma Dinkley! How dare you speak to your mother like that! Maybe you should come home. Elias is obviously brainwashing you along with the trash you carry around with you that you call friends.”

“No, you don’t get to ‘Velma Dinkley’ me. Not after what you did. I’m sorry but you’re not in control anymore and I bet that drives you absolutely mad. You know I could stoop to your level. Make you feel awful like you’ve always made me feel growing up. But I will spare you of that because I simply don’t have the time nor the patience for it. You must be terribly jealous. At least I have friends. What do you have mom? A husband who abides your wishes blindly? A cold home to parade around in? A kid who can barely stand to be around you? Yeah, I’m missing out on so much, huh? I have people who love me here. They don’t care what grades I make or how I dress. They just want me to be happy. That’s the least I could say for you. Goodbye mom. Talk to me when you actually care, yeah?”

With that Velma quickly hung up on her mother and tossed her phone to the other side of the couch. Her phone quickly began to vibrate again. Leaning to the side she grabbed her phone and turned it to silent immediately. Once the room was quite it felt like she could breathe again.

Even though her relationship with her parents had never been great, it still hurt. Her childhood had never been normal. She wasn’t allowed to play or hang out with kids her age. She was constantly being pushed to learn the next new thing or studying for another final. She saw the signs but Velma had always assumed that they were just strict parents who wanted the best for their little girl. Obviously she was wrong. It was on that day Velma vowed that if she were ever to have kids she’d only shower them with unconditional love. It didn’t matter what their dreams were or what they wanted to be or who they loved. She’d love them no matter what.

Velma hadn’t noticed she’d been crying until she noticed how hot her cheeks had gotten. Using her sleeve of her hoodie to quickly swipe them away. They weren’t worth her tears away. Desperately hoping Shaggy would come home at any second. He always knew how to make her feel better. It didn’t matter if her parents disowned her. Shaggy was her family and that was all that mattered.

[bewaretheidesofmarchyall]

Soulmate Shenanigans Five: The Order Of The Shenanigans

Hey! Guess who has returned? 

Me!

Just the March doing her prompt writing thing, as seen on previous episodes :)

Parts one, two, three, and four here!

Prompt #5

Any intense emotions your soulmate feels you will also experience

Warnings for kidnapping mention and gifted kid “potential” mention

Okay. Not going to lie, I kind of tweaked the concept, but I like how it turned out. The idea of the sides having sides in human AUs has been in my brain, and now it’s in yours!

World Building

At first, the symptoms of having a soulmate was seen as symptoms of witchcraft

It was a reasonable assumption to make, as seeing into someone’s head and emotions wasn’t really a thing that humans did. 

However, as the population grew and communication across the globe became a thing, the instances of people finding their soulmates grew as well, and not everyone could be a witch (or, if they were, being a witch was simply being human).

It took a while for the culture around soulmates to shift, but shift it did, and people eventually figured out “Oh, that person is my soulmate, not my eternal enemy that I need to destroy via my demonic powers, which I totally have”

But people’s minds are kind of a lot, and it’s hard to process it all.

So, in modern day, people have learned to separate the pieces of their soulmate’s personality that they get bombarded with into different pieces, or sides

The sides are Logic, Morality/Emotions, Creativity (with there sometimes being a divide between dark and light), Self-Preservation, and Anxiety.

Characters

Roman: Roman is looking forward to meeting his soulmate so much!

Just...later.

When he’s a famous writer and people know about him and he’s evened out his insecurities and he deserves them!

Being perfect for them is going to take work, but most people meet their soulmates over 30, so he’s got at least fifteen years to prepare.

Until then, he was working on his fantasy story and dreaming of the day he’d get published or get the lead in a school play.

The writing club had been his idea, so you could say that everything that happens in the story was his fault. He’d just wanted to be around people who liked the same things he liked!

Roman’s Sides, ranked in order of how much control they have:

Note: Names are hard. Aaaagh.

Magnus, his creativity, romance, passion, etcetera. Magnus is really the one who calls the shots around here. He’s just as goofy of a fifteen year old (if not more) as Roman, but he has the unenviable position of running a mind palace and being the ego of someone who hates himself.

This guy just wants to listen to Hamilton, but noooo, he had to have an evil reflection of himself and self-worth issues.

The Count, his self-preservation and pretty much Roman’s inner Roxie Hart/Velma Kelly. Randomly suggests poisoning their mortal enemies a lot (note: they don’t have mortal enemies). 

The most like canon Janus out of any of the self preservations, except instead of “we live in a society” it’s more “fuck it, we’re going to be *famous*!”

The other sides will pay him to stop saying, “that’s showbiz”

The Medic, his morality and emotions. Sort of has a medieval healer thing going on (which means herbs in a satchel, not plague doctor mask).

A lovely person on his own, but when he and The Guard team up, it’s ✨Guilt time!✨

He has the question of “Am I a terrible person?” on his hands, so...good luck to him. He’s trying to hold the five of them into a cohesive unit, but it’s hard!

The Guard, his fears and anxious thoughts. He has a shield and a spear, and is kind of dressed like a (dark and stormy) knight.

No one particularly likes him, but it’s his job to recognize The Shadow, so they all need him.

He hangs around on the outskirts of the mindscape, ever vigilant.

The Alchemist, his logic. No one listens to the voice of reason in this house. Al isn’t really a fan of this, and being Roman’s logic, he thinks that if he can find a way to prove himself it’ll turn out okay.

The Shadow, everything Magnus discarded. You could call him dark creativity, but he’s a lot more. 

They used to call him Rex, when they were kids.

Patton: Patton isn’t thrilled with having to move to a new school, but he’s keeping a positive attitude

The new town is creepy and making friends is harder than he thought, and he just wants to right a sappy love story about ghosts without feeling sad.

But if he keeps his chin up, he knows it’ll all be fine!

And hey, maybe he’ll find people who like him in this writing club thing!

Patton’s Sides, ranked in order of how much control they have: 

Patrick, his morality and emotions. Patrick feels all of the loneliness and desperation that Patton feels daily, but pretends he doesn’t feel it, since he has to be there for them!

Them meaning his family, meaning the rest of Patton’s mind, as well as Patton, since he’s kind of an older brother/role model to the guy.

Covering the full scope of human emotions isn’t great when the other half of your job is enforcing the sense of right and wrong (and the general consensus in Patton’s head is showing negative emotions = burden = wrong).

None of them can cook, but that won’t stop him from trying!

The Canary, his fears and anxious thoughts. Constantly popping up to remind everyone that they’re failing. It’s kind of his job.

Stress plays the piano when things get to be too much.

The Gardener, his creativity, romance, and passion. Conjures flowers a lot. Projects wishes for a soulmate into the sappy ghost love story, which he’s mostly in charge of writing.

Hasn’t split yet, but that’s mostly because nearly all of Patton’s negative impulses that would be considered “dark creativity” already come from The Miser.

Dr. Picani, his logical side. Knows everything about cartoons, and tries to be professional, but a complete sweetheart.

Secretly knows his name is Emile, but is waiting for the best moment to tell everyone.

The Miser, his self-preservation and deceitful side. No one’s a fan of him. Patrick is kind of his mortal nemesis (in the sense that Patrick claimed the title and he just kind of went along with it?)

Everyone else in the Pattonsphere refuses to curse, but he says many a “fuck” with ease

Trying to protect The Gardener from splitting by taking responsibility for most of the things a dark creativity would do.

Virgil: Virgil just didn’t want to join the yearbook committee. 

It was irrational, maybe, to have a deep rooted hatred of the yearbook committee. 

They were just trying to categorize things, design pages-it wasn’t malicious! 

And yet, being in that classroom and seeing Amelia’s dead eyes and smile near rang every alarm bell in his system, so he needed a way out this year.

His parents weren’t going to let him not choose an activity, so he flipped a coin and ended up in some writing club.

He came into the club determined to fake some pretentious poetry about death. Just because they say the club’s about expression or whatever doesn’t mean that they can know anything about his comics.

Virgil’s Sides, ranked in order of how much control they have: 

Dante, his fears and anxious thoughts. Dante has too many eyes. Dante is lowkey a cryptid, but he’s sadly a cryptid in charge of life decisions.

There’s no way to dance around it. Dante’s a spider-human hybrid.

Dante would prefer they never be perceived by anyone for anything. He does not want to be seen, he does not want to be heard, he does not want to be perceived. Period. 

But he’s a very conspicuous spider-human hybrid. 

The Competent One, The One Who Can Actually Do Math, Steve, whatever you want to call him, he’s Virgil’s logical side.

His theories are just....

See that image? That kind of sums up his characterization.

Parker, his creativity, romance, and heroic side. He’s the one who got them obsessed with comic books, and is trying to write his own. If people don’t like the comics, he’ll probably just start screaming and never stop

He gets the purple eyeshadow!

Remy, his self-preservation. He mainly just wants Virgil to just...rest

Nap. Sleep. Take a self-care day. This is Remy’s goal.

Also to continue to have the most style out of anyone in the Virgilsphere

Remy has a talent for never being anywhere at the right time, and then popping up at the worst moments, caffeine in hand.

Tam, his morality and emotions. The most into the emo phase out of any of them, since he feels all angst!

Sometimes just hovers and screams. Everyone’s pretty used to this.

Logan: Logan was trying to ignore the things he’d seen

Logan was a scientific guy. He knew that magic wasn’t real, that the fae were just stories.

So, clearly, the nightmarish things he’d seen that night were just that: nightmares. Just nightmares caused by stress over his academic struggles.

That was the immediate problem at hand: academic struggles. Logan was always the top of his class his whole life, and words like “gifted” were thrown around. Lately, however, things have been harder to keep up with and pay attention to, and it’s a bit of a mess.

Logan joined the writing club because he thought it might help him with English class, and he did like speculative fiction.

But, more importantly, he joined it because he thought it would be a simple task he could easily ace, so he wouldn’t have to keep being told that he wasn’t trying.

Logan’s Sides, ranked in order of how much control they have:

Mimir, his logical side. Mimir is pushing himself to take care of all academic matters and keep Logan afloat.

Mimir is over his head, but doesn’t really have anyone to talk to (or so he thinks), so he’s just putting Warby Parkers over his panic and faking cold distance to make everyone think he’s doing okay.

Alastor, his moral side. Half of his job is repressing Logan’s emotions, which isn’t a great thing to be doing, but he think he’s doing it for a good reason.

Kinda strict and blaming Mimir for everything going wrong. He does care about the others, he’s just bad at showing it.

Cassandros, his fears and anxious thoughts. 

This dude-

He’s basically just [puts feet on coffee table] “Hey, did you know everyone hates us?? I made a PowerPoint that proves it!”

He’ll get character development, though.

The Chessmaster, his overdramatic self-preservation.

Tries to be clever, walks into walls.

The Detective, his creative and fanciful side. He wants to swashbuckle, but instead he’s restrained to geometry. 

But now he has a project in the writing club! He has something to do!

And The Mad Scientist is trying to ruin it!

The Mad Scientist, Logan’s dark creativity.

They never used to care about the creative side one way or another. There was no need to make a dark side when it was already looked down upon.

Now, however, there are things in Logan’s mind that he’s trying not to think about, and so the Mad Scientist has joined the fray.

The Actual Plot

This is going to be an actual fic that I write. So, I’m not going to fill out the entire plot here.

I can, however say a few of the plot lines

Plot One: Everyone’s sides are in a state of constant screaming and must learn to communicate.

They also need to let their main guys figure out they have soulmates, because they’re all repressing that information for their own reasons.

Plot Two: LAMP in a writing club, falling in love and being disturbed by first drafts!

Plot Three: The fae are kidnapping people.

And everyone needs to get them to Stop.

I guess you could call this a trailer??

I JUST REALLY LIKE THIS IDEA

[quirklove]

I beg of you- some soft Tomura, Compress, and Setsuno headcanons, please. I’m on my simp shit rn

aw, you don’t have to beg!! I’m constantly on simp mode for these babes

soft soft soft soft!!!!

ATSUHIRO

Is always humming something or other when he’s around his S/O. It might be an old nursery rhyme that’s stuck in his head, it might be some catchy pop tune that he keeps hearing on the radio, it might even be their favorite song. He’s nearly always an outgoing personality, but his S/O makes him so happy it puts that extra little spring in his step.

He’s a man of culture, (Name)! Somewhere he has a small stash of money from his past that he can draw on, so every once in a while, he likes to treat his friends and his S/O. (Most of the time, that cash goes to making sure they all actually have enough to eat or emergency supplies, and it’s obviously not too much money, so he doesn’t do this horribly often.) If anyone else will join him in disguise, he might be inclined to go with his S/O to a play or musical… perhaps even a ballet if the tickets are affordable enough. If no one else comes, ah, that’s alright; he’ll go with (Name) anyway, then bring back a slightly nicer dinner than normal for everyone else so that they aren’t left out. Maybe once or twice a year he does this, so everyone better enjoy it!

Noooo, he doesn’t wear the balaclava when he goes to bed, nor is it the first thing he puts on in the morning. He loves those times ― lying down to sleep and waking up. He gets to feel so vulnerable and exposed with his S/O, having them stare at him with his entire face uncovered, feeling their hands run through his hair like only ever allows in private. Plus, the fact that their gorgeous face is the first thing he sees when he opens his eyes in the morning? God. He’s gone soft. At least that softness is only for them, otherwise he might have a problem.

He likes to play cards with his friends and S/O if they’re not busy. No missions means he’s at the bar playing poker with Kurogiri, or war with Dabi, or… well, all Tomura ever plays is let me turn the cards to dust because fuck your games, Compress. What a brat!! One can practically see his face light up behind whatever mask he has on when (Name) asks him to teach them a game.

No matter what, he makes the extremely conscious effort to always give his S/O some gesture of affection before he goes off on a mission. Whether it’s tipping his mask to lovingly kiss their cheek, giving their fingers a passionate squeeze, or pulling them close for a gentle hug, he won’t leave without doing it. It’s a subtle way of saying goodbye, just in case things might go sideways. He acknowledges that the League’s affairs are incredibly dangerous and illegal; they could all die on any mission. He wants his beloved’s potential last memory of him to be something good. If he ends up dead, he doesn’t want them left with any doubt as to the fact that whatever else is true, he adores them very, very much and wants them to be happy.

TOMURA

Nightmares are a frequent thing with him, unfortunately. Sometimes it takes the form of memories, remembering the night his Quirk activated, leaving him with the image of crying in the middle of a circle made of his family’s corpses. Sometimes it’s a horrifying scenario in which Decay works on him, where he wraps his arms around himself and feels himself disintegrate piece by piece. Sometimes it’s his literal worst nightmare, a scene where he touches his friends or his S/O and they turn to dust in his fingers. Sometimes he wakes up screaming, his hands balled into fists so hard his nails are digging crescents into his palms and drawing blood, just so he can’t hurt anyone he cares about. Having his S/O take him in their arms and hold him close, kissing his face, whispering that he’s safe, reminding him that they’re here for him… he might not get back to sleep, but he finds comfort enough to stop crying within an hour.

There is one lone, solitary, singular way (Name) can get him to wear lip balm. That would be… to apply a surplus of it to their own lips, and proceed to give him as many kisses as he’ll allow them to in one go. Sure, the chapped lips aren’t unattractive ― but they’ve gotta hurt like hell. Just let your loving S/O lessen your pain a little, Tomura, you gigantic baby!! Also, they should pick a novelty flavor when they do this. It increases the number of kisses he’ll accept when their lips taste like vanilla frosting or Dr. Pepper.

Is like… the worst at any kind of self-care. He forgets to wash/comb his hair, he definitely doesn’t shower quite enough, he’s had at least one infection from not taking care of the wounds on his neck. The only reason he isn’t dead is Kurogiri, and later gains another reason; his S/O, obviously. Whenever he’s not working on his and All For One’s plans, he’s playing video games, and trying to get him away from that is like pulling teeth. However, his S/O has turned out to be very good at doing that. They can easily entice him with a warm shower together, and he’s pretty sure he’s never felt something as amazing as their fingers massaging his scalp as they wash his hair. Even though the ointment they want to put on his neck smells like medicine, he tolerates it simply because it feels nice when they rub it on. They’re always so gentle with him, and it just about breaks the poor man.

When encouraged and left in a non-stressful environment, Tomura is actually not terrible with children. He’s awkward, sure, he’s grumpy, sure, he doesn’t suffer brats, sure, but all things being equal, he does alright. Most of the time he’s not too scary around kids, or at least doesn’t act scary. (His appearance freaking some of them out, ah… that’s another story.) Though he’d have to do a lot of preparation, he might actually put an incredible amount of effort into learning if he found out he was going to be a father. How the man can’t manage to muster up the motivation needed to wash his clothes before wearing them a second time, yet can summon the will to read a ton of different parenting books, the world will never know. The point stands ― having a child combined with his love for his S/O would be a huge catalyst for his realizing that he doesn’t hate everything and everyone, and the world isn’t all bad.

Whenever he wants to touch his S/O in a sweet, intimate way but doesn’t feel comfortable or safe using most of his hand, he’ll use one finger. He might curl his fingers in to run his thumb gingerly over their cheek, or trace his knuckle down the side of their arm, or use the tip of his index finger to draw down their spine so he can see them arch their back. Tomura has never, ever had this before. Despite knowing he has to be careful, that he wants to be careful with them, there’s something endlessly fascinating to him about seeing how they react pleasantly to his touch when all his touch has ever done before is destroy. This also works in reverse; he wants to experience every possible touch of theirs that they’re willing to afford him.

TOYA

When he sleeps with his S/O, he really, really loves to be the little spoon. (He’s pretty well convinced that anyone who says they don’t, at least from time to time, is a liar!) It makes him feel safe and secure, like everything’s okay, like his S/O cares about him and wants to protect him. If he’s not being the little spoon, and sometimes when he’s the little spoon but facing them, he tends to cling in his sleep. His arms wrap tightly around their waist, his head buried in their chest or their neck or their back. It’s a product of his depressingly possessive nature; he loves them so much, they’re the best thing in his life, and he just… doesn’t want to lose them. Even while he’s asleep, he never wants to let go.

There are times Toya thinks about letting his hair grow out a little longer, to his shoulders maybe. The biggest thing that stops him is that he doesn’t know how he’d look with long hair. He isn’t sure he’d look that great or that he has the face for it! He’s a little afraid that with his more delicate features, having hair longer than it is now would lead to him being mistaken for a woman. If he mentions it to (Name), he might be a little startled by their enthusiastic, “Oh, that would look so charming on you!” coupled with a reassurance that they love his appearance no matter what he decides to do with his look. As far as they’re concerned, even if he ends up not doing it, they’re still going to think he’s the most handsome man ever. Knowing they’d support it, though, makes him think about actually doing it.

He rambles a lot, particularly when he’s feeling anxious. He rambles a lot. That goes along with his hands fidgeting and sometimes his leg bouncing a bit if he’s sitting down. For some reason he finds it hard to sit still or be quiet. He feels the need to fill the silence with something. So he talks, about anything and everything and occasionally about nothing at all. Most of the time only his S/O (or sometimes a friend) placing a hand over his, threading their fingers together, can calm him slightly. Often a gentle kiss when he’s doing the motormouth thing will get his mind to slow down and focus… at least to the point where he kisses back, and happily drowns in them for a while.

While not ‘on the job’, Toya… is usually kind of unsure what to do with his time. He reads, he watches TV a lot, he… sleeps. God, he sleeps. He seems to spend his life in a weird state of either being asleep or seeming wired as hell. There’s not really an in-between for him, at least not for a long time. He has trouble finding balance, especially since he’s so depressed. It seems to other people that he’s got too much energy and doesn’t fit the profile of what many people think a depressed person looks like. In truth, this is probably more accurate than people would like to think ― he hides the fact that he feels numb or sad by masking it with upbeat, happy, sometimes crazed behavior. Thankfully, he can sometimes find real happiness with his S/O, and it’s because of them that he might seek any kind of treatment so that he can feel better more often. Good thing, too, because not only will he be chasing a healthy life… his smile, genuine, painless, unaltered by any kind of forced joy? His true smile is the most beautiful thing.

Okay, but the man… has a serious sweet tooth. Most of the Hassaikai have their own room, and they can fill it however they choose. Toya’s cabinets are filled with nothing but sugary snacks. Even though he does eat regular meals, or at least tries to, he has to have something with sugar nearby to eat between. Chocolate is his favorite; he’ll eat almost any kind of candy, pastry, or even fruit snacks. If his S/O is very lucky, he will share! Pro tip: playing the pocky game with him is guaranteed to end in a cute, maybe steamy makeout session. And kissing any leftover chocolate that gets stuck to his lips? Oh, he’ll blush so hard.

[msladyrosa]

I'm here to tell a story that my heart is screaming at me to tell.

This is me. I fucking hate myself, just as much as I fake loving me. I don't think I've ever been this contempt as I was in these photos. I'm awkward and I fake confidence by throwing sarcastic and snarky comments. My coping mechanism consists of lying and just hiding behind my fake me. I've created a confident, pretty and delusional front that isn't me, but it's just as real as the raw version. My raw is ugly and disgusting and I hate it. I hid it and for the love of the non existent God there is, I wish I didn't have the raw side. I write in my skin, because if I went back to cutting, then I would no longer have pretty skin that people can love. I love eating, but I don't do it, because of the fear of losing my 36,28,42 measurements. I'm suicidal, but heavens forgive if I make a joke about it in order to cope with my insane itch to make my skin purple. My arm hair is soft and the last time I shaved I was scared that someone might see the thin, white lines that are underneath. My body is sexy as fuck, but Heavens forgive me if I actually feel comfortable in it. Thoughts of "they'll be fine without me" or "it's better if I'm not here" are drowned by the words I told someone who was a suicidal as me, "killing yourself would not make the pain disappear, you're just passing it on to someone else". I'm such a fucking hypocrite, or is it just a twisted way of actual introspection? What is wrong with the way I walk funny because I'm dizzy for the lack of food is that people notice. Oh great deity in the sky, please allow them to notice, but forgive them is they dare to ask what's wrong. I look happy and relaxed in the photos, hell yes, but not I'm an anxious mess that's writing this in the middle of a mental breakdown. Parents are never the one's to blame, no forgive them for not validating their children's emotions and struggles. No, strict parenthood creates strong-willed, rightful and successful people that think of themselves as worthless, weak, pathetic excuses. Oh we lie, and we lie good. Ask actors if they had strict parents... You'll find none, why? Because strict parents will inforce you an internalized fear of failure outside of social norms and acting is "a waste of time" to their standards. Support doesn't come from the right sized bra, but it sure as fucking hell is welcoming to be held and somehow relived from a burden you didn't fucking asked for. I was so happy ya'll. I was in cloud nine. That day I had a date with a guy I like that I thought was way out of my league, I lied my way through his pseudo intellectual remarks and he believed it.

We know how to lie so good and so true that eventually you lose track of your actual motive to do it in the first place. Society wants you perky and pretty, fuck yeah they do. How do I get all perky and pretty when I only see disgusting, overdosed surroundings? It's easy to get worried when you finally realize somethings not right. It wasn't right to be kneeling at someone's feet screaming a nasty and raspy wail of pain. 10 years it took me to fucking do that and yet nothing really changed. Now I'm just looked at with pity and the quizzical look that can only mean "when is this one gonna blow up again?" Oh, honey, I won't, you're just worried that you're just realizing this now. It's easy to be outside and just stay that way.

I was so happy, all the time. I was forced to lie in order to move forward. You love me? Yeah, as long as you earn it. Are you proud? Sure, as long as you don't fail. Am I okay because I feel like this? Well, it's fine as long as you keep it in. It's beautiful. "As long as..." my reality had always been subjected to a condition, and clause, a fucking constant reminder that I have to earn my happiness. I have to earn my own idea of self worth that is diluted through your standards. I have to earn reassurance from the people I surround myself. I must assume the best case scenario but I can't be surprised when it's the worst outcome.

Having loved a mad human made me realize how flawed I am. I was happy. So, so happy I forgot I wasn't. I tortured myself through endless nights of doubt, starvation with a full kitchen. Sleepless nights contemplating self harm and then decided against it because I had work and the cute client at work would see how damaged I was. I tortured myself with the idea of loneliness in a see of people, only to realize I've been in that see long enough that I grew a tail and fins. I was plagued my guilt because I didn't love them, but when exactly did it go from happy to uttermost bullshit? I was so happy I forgot what sadness was.

I was so happy it started hurting. Hurting when I failed to do something. It was excruciating when I was not able to buy a car because I had noticed I had spent my money of pleasing those who swore they'd provide for me. I was in pain when I showered and instead of singing, I just blasted music loud enough so that nobody heard my hyperventilating bitch ass. I was in so much pain that I welcomed it as my way of happiness. I loved my pain, because I've had it my whole life.

I had it when I was in forth grade and in order to fit in I had to go a sneak around to kiss a boy, and I didn't want to. It was there when I was accused of fighting other girls, but in reality I was trying to establish my self worth, so I was punished. In fifth grade I loved a boy so much I had written beautiful words to describe how much I loved his smile, and so he said I was stalking him and he got scared; 2 months later I was in a shrinks chair talking about it; fast-forward to last night, that same boy explained to me how much he wanted to fuck me now that he had lost weight. Middle school was terrible. Seventh grade, I was constantly degrading myself because another pretty blonde chick was only my friend when she could laugh through me. I insulted a perfectly great teacher because she noticed my self destructive behavior. Eighth grade came and I was lost with a blonde boy. He was beautiful and I was not. He was friends with the girl that swore fielty to me and he chose someone else and because he chose the pretty pale skin on someone else, I settled for the kid that wantedto finger me in the bleachers during recess. Ninth grade came and I was failing classes, parents were strict and hurtful, but they aren't to blame for my shortcomings. That's when I found myself in the arms of the pretty blonde thing I had fallen for. The pretty girl had him in public, I could only have him when we snuck around and he would hold me and kiss me like holding on to his life line. I was letting him touch me, but my self hatred didn't know no boundaries so I suck to my knees and gave my first blowjob at the top of staircase wearing only a lazy purple bra and the school uniform and the shame I'll forever wear because I did it without wanting to, but because I was expected to.

I was so happy to be out of there, that I ended up sinking deeper into my lie. I was smart, new and vulnerable. That's how I met the wholesome boy I called my first boyfriend who was nice and respectful, but he was as ugly as they come. I was a queen to him, but he was looking more like the ogre on the fairy tale and there came my vanity, my ego, my selfishness. I was brutal and I couldn't care less. High school started with a bang with the boy I played with, and when he got to close to my actual raw person, I kicked him out with a bang and he cried. I just stood there not knowing how to react, so I just went on to the next person I could lead on and play. Junior year I knew was difficult, and a black boy with a nice boy and a promising basketball future came around, I once again craved approval and degraded myself to it. That's how I ended up sneaking around 10 minutes before my parents picked me up. In the second floor, I'd found myself again on my knees, and expected to give a blowjob in exchange for attention, and like before, I was hidden, and I expected to be I had tears in my eyes, but because of my shame. Senior year came in, and the black boy with the attractive body was replaced with another, but this one only had pretty eyes and the promise of spoiling me with his family's money. Once again, I said yes when he said he wanted me to be his girlfriend, at least this time I was not hidden, but I was back in the cycle and I ditched my best friend in a movie theater so that I would be in the backseat on a Dodge, sucking my pseudo boyfriend's dick with tears on my eyes, not becauseofhis size, but becausethe disgust towards myself. Like before, I was expected to do so, and so I did.

Heavens above forgive the religion to blame women for sin and lust, but instead punish us for the boys who couldn't keep their dicks to themselves. The end of senior year came, and I was relieved, but then I fell for the guy my parents liked. Humble background, similar interests, and a promise of stability. I was ditched because for him I was a whore and his friends told him so, I accepted the insults and insinuations.

I was so happy, I forgot the rest. College was great and a religious nut job, a platonic love, a semi smart dipshit with the complex of being over everyone in experience, a quiet mature man that treated me with decency, the suicidal broken guy who needed healing #1 and the suicidal broken guy who needed healing #2, later, here I am.

I was so happy in these pictures, I had no idea was contemplating my own disappearance. I write this with migrane, blue ink from a ballpoint in my thighs, with nostalgic memories of moments where my mind wasn't this crowded. I was so happy it hurt. I guess that my logic dictates that happiness is painful and that my pain can bring me joy, but fuck I was so happy.

I had everything. I was pretty, I was smart, I was important. I'm still all those things, but right this very second, I'm happy, and painful so. Heavens above forgive for I have sinned...

I dared to fail... I sinned

I dared to fall into lust... I sinned

I dared to judge... I sinned

I fucking dared to wake up every miserable day... I had sinned.

I dared to be painfully happy... I sinned

I lied... and so that's my greatest sin of all.

[lovelykhaleesiii]

Little One

HEADCANON 

Pairing: Arthur Fleck/Joker x fem!Reader

Words: 1,414

Summary: Breaking the news of parenthood isn't exactly easy, especially when the father is the one and only... 

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, fluff, angst, swearing, Daddy kink, breeding kink 

A/N - I decided to just collaborate these (2) ideas for convenience! I actually keep getting carried away... this is bad. (still need to edit, but your girl’s got a fucking assignment to work on)

Requested by - (2) Anons 

How would Joker/Arthur handle a pregnant SO? :)

Can i request arthur fleck as a dad and y/n being the mom imagine.

ARTHUR FLECK:

This would be completely unexpected: neither Arthur or you had discussed your future with one another, let alone the idea of parenthood. 

You both had too many things on your plate, and mentally, you felt neither one of you was prepared for it.

However, you were the determined type. You assumed Arthur would be quite hesitant at first, seeing as how his mental state wasn’t exactly the “healthiest” and he was aware... All the medications, all the negative thoughts (no matter how hard you desperately tried to help him through it all), they were still there. 

But you also knew, Arthur was never the type to hurt you, nor intended to make the slightest part of you upset. 

He wanted what was best for you, just as you'd always intended for him. 

You didn't even hold back in breaking the news: you knew how much Arthur hated having the truth hidden from him... 

“I’m pregnant.” 

He’d be taken aback, and he’d burst into one of his laughing fits, knowing deep down he was more anxious than anything. 

You gave him time to recollect himself, in the mean time, you’d been hoping for some sort of a positive reaction. 

“Y/N, sweetheart, I-I don't think this would be a good idea. With me being me, the baby could just end up-”

“You can’t think like that, Arthur! Never again, please...” 

He’d just stare at you for the longest, seeing your eyes slowly swell with the tears you'd been fighting back, just thinking.

If it meant, that you'd be willing to start a family he’d never in his wildest dreams would have thought to have, then so be it... He’d be a father. 

And he’d be a damn good one at that. 

After quite literally everything he’d been through, the childhood abuse, trauma, and mistreatment: he was certain fatherhood never encompassed what he’d been exploited to. 

Throughout the course of the pregnancy, Arthur made sure you were royally treated. 

He'd been working tirelessly, desperately looking for multiple jobs, trying to save as much money in preparation for the little one. As a consequence, he grew even more exhausted, more frail: however you constantly made the effort to make sure he was properly fed, and well-rested. 

Whenever he’d arrive late from work, immediately upon seeing you, especially with the growing bump really seemed to cheer him up... It was as if all his troubles had simply melted away, as soon as he'd walk through the door. 

He’d promised from the start, that he’d try to attend as many appointments as possible, even if it meant rushing from work to get to the other side of town. He intended to keep that promise. 

Arthur was also, really into the idea of keeping the sex a surprise until the birth, and no matter how eager you were to know... You agreed to stay in the dark. 

When you both made the rare occasion of going out in public, whenever Arthur’s schedule would allow: it became a habit for him secretly to watch other fathers. He’d just closely watch at how they acted around their own kids, how playful some of them were, and how paternal they’d be. 

You thought it was adorable... He just wanted to be perfect. 

Coming towards the due date, you sensed that Arthur’s doubts and anxiety over the matter had heightened... And it surely wasn't helping you either.

You both weren't in the greatest financial state nor in the grandest accommodation, especially now that you'd be on temporary leave from work, Arthur felt a huge sense of responsibility on him. 

Not that it was unfamiliar, but now, in this setting with you and the baby... It meant the world to him to keep you guys happy. 

You’d have fights here and there, minor ones. Arthur would instantly regret his behaviour, and you’d be the one to reassure him that everything would be fine, you’d promised that. 

On the day of the birth, Arthur unfortunately was at work. 

As soon as he’d heard the news, he wouldn’t even have the decency to call up the manager to explain the situation nor his need to leave his fellow peers, he'd just bolt. 

He’d manage to arrive right on time to the hospital: and upon hearing you in the agonising pain of childbirth, your screams just filling the room... He’d hated it. 

It got to the point where he couldn't stand it anymore, that he'd actually excused himself out of the room, just to regain himself. 

It was in that sheer moment he heard another, tiny scream that he’d forget about literally everything. All the worries, all the negative thoughts would vanish, and he'd storm right back into the room. 

The moment he’d seen you lovingly holding your son/daughter, tears of joy filling your eyes as you longingly looked up at him, he’d felt a relief, knowing his entire world was in his grasp. 

JOKER:

Breaking the news to the Joker though, was a different story...

He definitely was not a fan of fatherhood just yet.

You were greatly saddened by his initial reaction, especially on his multiple attempts of trying to dissuade you from motherhood.

You'd reached the point, where you'd grown so mad, that you’d no longer cared for his word. You’d promise to raise the kid yourself, if need be. 

And yet still, he stayed by you. 

You weren't expecting it at all, though throughout the progression of the pregnancy, he’d grown accustomed to supporting you. 

Whether it be simple things like, holding your hair back, as you’d puked your heart out, on days where you experienced terrible morning sickness, to running errands for you. 

You didn’t dare to question his intentions: you felt if you did, it would remind him of his initial reaction, and from there he'd just distance himself again. 

And you definitely didn’t want that... You loved Arthur, and you knew deep down he’d still loved you. Why else would he have been so overprotective of you?

At this point, he felt he couldn’t even allow you to leave his sight, especially during the later stages of your pregnancy. 

He saw you as vulnerable: an easy target for all of Gotham’s madmen, and he just would never find the strength within himself to overcome anything that could happened to you and the baby. 

It even agitated him, when friends or random people alike would try to rub your belly, or even come in close proximity of you. 

“Why don't you watch just how close you’re getting, asshole.” 

He was quite possessive now, even from before you’d become pregnant, it slightly frightened you at times, however, you understood he had good intentions. 

Not to forget, the sex never stopped there. 

He didn't care that you were pregnant: he knew he’d nurture you like no one else, and that he had no intentions at all of hurting your or the baby inside. 

He was still rough at times when he felt he’d lost the sense of self-control. He’d grown a major Daddy kink, and on top of that a fucking breeding kink. 

This you hadn't expected AT ALL... It seemed the more he'd grown used to the idea of you with his child, he greatly thrived in it. 

“The more the merrier, right?” He’d say, before laughing his head off. 

Similar to Arthur, he’d come to the idea of wanting the sex to remain a mystery... He loved surprises and the thought was exhilarating to him. 

The idea of fatherhood however, unlike Arthur, the Joker would simply go with the flow. 

He had no intentions of creating a mental plan or strategy to tackle fatherhood. He knew for certain he’d be the best, and that he’d treat his child better than all the other fathers in Gotham.

“Thomas Wayne can eat his fucking heart out...”

However, at times you struggled to see that. He missed most of the appointments you'd had, especially when he was under custody of the authorities. He could never dismiss his “bad behaviour” that got him into trouble all the time. 

It was just who he was now. 

He’d still managed to have made it to the birth... That he couldn't miss. 

Gently cradling your newborn son/daughter in his arms, swaying them slowly from side to side, his smile just wouldn’t fade. On top of the instinctive cries of your newborn, he couldn't help but laugh. He’d never felt this feeling before... Sheer happiness. 

[raybansandcoffee]

Adventure of a Lifetime: Chapter Four

You can find the first three chapters of Adventure of a Lifetime HERE. Sorry about the cliffhanger in the last chapter, I’m evil. I know.

*****

Fuck. How do I answer this? It's the dreaded moment I've faced doing this whole thing alone since we moved here. It's why I hated the Mommy groups. It's why I got awkward and abandoned the playdates. I didn't know where to even begin when answering this. I could lie, say that he was in LA and he saw the kids when he could. No one here would know. I could tell the truth but then I'd have to deal with all of them making that sad face everyone has been making at me for the last year.

"Umm..."

"You don't have to answer that. I get it. Single parenthood is awkward and people think that they can just ask every inappropriate and awkward question. I was out of line."

"You weren't. It's just a hard question to answer and something that honestly I haven't discussed with a single person since I moved here. We moved here in a really quick manner. And I haven't even felt okay opening up to anyone about it. But it's okay. I need to. It's been 342 days. It's time to feel okay talking about it. The kids had a wonderful Dad. One of the greatest people I've ever met. He was kind and funny and he loved them endlessly." I took a deep breath. "And their Mom. She was my soulmate. We did everything together. She was probably the most incredible human that ever existed. She knew just how to make you feel settled and safe in any situation, which was great because I'm anxious all the time. She loved being a Mom more than anything and she was the happiest I'd ever seen her." I remembered watching them walk out the door of my condo after dropping off the kids with me. They were so in love and ready to go celebrate their anniversary. The image of them kissing as the elevator across from my door closed is burned into my mind. I felt a tear slip down my cheek and quickly tried to brush it away. As he did every morning Axel reached his hands out and put them on my cheeks. "The kids aren't biologically mine. I was Ellie's godmother and just crazy Auntie Charlie with her cats. Until July 1st last year at 2:08 in the morning. My best friend and her husband died. They had been out celebrating their anniversary and surviving the first three weeks of parenting both of these babies. They got home and walked in on a home invasion in progress. The police told me that they died instantly so I at least feel okay that they weren't in pain for long. And honestly, that night was the happiest I'd seen them since their wedding night."

"Holy shit. I'm sorry. That is terrible. You really didn't have to tell me that if you didn't want to."

"It's okay. It's actually a bit of a relief. I haven't talked about Sam with anyone other than my family, our third musketeer Alex, or Sam's parents. They live in Reno, it's why I moved here. I wanted the kids to grow up close to some of their biological family. Sam and her husband Michael were both only children and his parents had both passed away."

"So from no desire to have kids to raising your best friends' two kids in an instant."

"Yup. I was babysitting the kids that night. We didn't want them to go back to the house and I couldn't have them in my one-bedroom condo for long. Alex and I sat down with Sam's Mom and Dad to go through the will and both of the kids came to me. I'd agreed to it offhand at one point when Sam was pregnant with Ellie and was serious about it but never imagined it would actually happen. You don't actually think something will happen to them both at the same time. Like maybe one of them but the other one would still be around. But I lost them both in one night and gained the kids."

"You are an incredible friend. For them to have selected you to be the guardian for the kids is a big deal."

"Yeah, I am constantly afraid I'm failing and that ghost Sam is going to pop up and yell at me for something like not giving her kid enough cake, she had a sweet-tooth. She also would totally haunt my ass if that was a thing. She was my writing partner. We knew the way the other person's brain worked."

"Writing partner?"

"Yeah, we met at USC at orientation. Turns out we had the same major. We went through undergrad and grad school at USC together. We write film scores. Or I guess I write film scores. Or I used to. In the last year, I've done the score for two short films but I'm in the process of doing my first full score without Sam which is weird."

"So how did you get from LA to here?"

"Like I mentioned Sam's Mom and Dad live in Reno. Our house was she and Michael's vacation home. The house we live in was theirs. Their will left a trust for me to take care of the kids, pay for their schooling, and cover our living expenses. With Sam having grown up in Reno they wanted to get a vacation home near her parents. They bought the place here shortly after they got married. The intention was to eventually make it their permanent home. With both of their work, they'd just to go LA whenever they needed to or Michael would be off wherever his current project was. The apartment above the garage was meant for me. Michael was convinced from the moment he met me that I was Peter Pan." I laughed remembering the first time he told me this. He was so serious about it and didn't break until the very end when he threw glitter on me like it was pixie dust and screamed at me to FLY! "I was never growing up and he wanted to make sure I always had a roof over my head if I needed it and a space for Sam and me to work together when we needed it. The house is way too big for the four of us living there right now. Having my little brother here for a while will help the house feel more alive."

"I'm sorry you've had to go through all of this but from what I've observed of Ellie and just today watching you with both of them, you've taken to motherhood well."

"Thank you. It was an awkward start. Never expecting to have kids and suddenly having an infant and a kid getting ready to start school was the biggest life change I could've imagined. Doing it not only alone but without my best friend made it even harder."

"Did they ever find who did it?"

"They did. His trial actually starts this summer. I'm trying to decide if I'm going back for the whole trial or if it's healthier for me to stay here. I've been working with the prosecutor back in LA. They want me there for a victim impact statement to speak on behalf of the kids. They've given me the option of doing it through a pre-recorded video or through a letter. I just worry about taking the kids back to LA because we don't really have anywhere to stay. I still have my place but I don't have anywhere to take them that will fit all of us comfortably."

"Did you sell their house?" I nodded.

"I did. Well, as soon as the LAPD was done with it. The trust they left would've only covered one of the properties. I couldn't imagine living in LA in that house. It was hard enough going in there to get the kids things. I needed to be able to take care of them so I had to go when it was still a crime scene. Honestly, it's an image I'm never going to be able to get out of my head. It was one of the most horrific things I've ever seen. They both worked in the film industry so we are fairly certain it wasn't a random home invasion but that they were targeted. I knew in my heart that Sam and Michael would've wanted the kids to be here and close to Sam's parents."

"That makes complete sense. I don't know that I could imagine living in a house with that kind of history. Especially with the kids. You have to do your best to take care of them. Do you get back to LA often?"

"I've been back to LA on my own when they take the kids for a long weekend or something. We all went to Stanford a couple of weeks ago to see Tony graduate from college. But I haven't taken the kids back to LA. I mean Ellie knows that Mommy and Daddy are gone and never coming back. We told her that a very bad man took them from us but they are safe now. I'll tell her the whole story at some point but at 5 she didn't need that. Axel won't have a single memory of his parents. I'm the only Mom this kid will ever remember." I hugged him tightly to my chest. "Someday I'll take them back there. Show them the places that mean the most. The place where their father proposed to their mother. The studio she and I practically lived in. Where they got married. But for now, this is home. Sam's parents opted to have them cremated so there's not a grave there to go visit which makes it a bit easier. We are having a memorial for them here at the end of the month to spread their ashes. Alex and her family are coming out along with my sister and her family. We are going to do exactly what Sam would want which is celebrate them. The memorial service when they died, she would've fuckin' hated it. I was too much of a mess to do anything for it really and so was Alex. Sam's parents weren't in LA when we needed to start planning it so my mother took over. I love my Mom but she's a mess, she's rarely even in LA anymore so it was weird. She planned something so opposite of Sam that honestly if she'd attended her own funeral she would've laughed her ass off at it. I did manage to get the ability to play a song the two of us wrote together for their wedding. I hadn't sung it since that day. I barely made it through but I did it. Sorry, I'm rambling. Outside of family and Alex, I haven't talked about Sam in a year. You opened the flood gates evidently."

"It's okay. Grief does weird things to us. You're doing a great job. If you want to keep talking about Sam you can."

"No, she'd yell at me for crying about her. Especially when I'm supposed to be making a new friend and playing with the kids. So tell me about you. What do you do for fun? I mean your life can't all be acting."

"It's not, that's for sure. When I bought this place it meant I had some projects to do, I spend time without Eva doing that. I'm also a musician."

"I noticed the baby grand. Living in LA I walked into a LOT of homes where that was purely for show but I figured that wasn't the case here."

"No, it's not. I am actually getting ready to go finish filming the last of stuff for the next Avengers movie before too long and I'm working on a film soundtrack actually."

"A film soundtrack, huh?"

"Yeah, I've voiced a character in an animated film and they are letting me do the music for it," he said. "Finally something all the kids in my life can see."

"That's freaking awesome. I'm just going to tell you, working on music for a film is one of the greatest feelings. I mean I write other music. But crafting the sound and then sitting in a theater and watching how my music gets integrated into a film is just an incredibly special feeling. You're going to have this almost otherworldly experience when you see the finished product with an audience. It's the greatest feeling in the world."

"I'm excited to understand that better." He smiled at me. "Looks like the Axe Man was tired." I looked down to see my little guy asleep with his head on my chest.

"Yeah. Thankfully this kid finally figured out how to sleep for more than a few hours at a time. I occasionally get a full night of sleep these days."

"As much as I want more kids I don't miss the middle of the night feedings, the sleep regression, the teething."

"Fuck it's a nightmare I never prepared for adequately."

"Mom! Are you getting the in the pool with us?" Ellie called.

"I will in a minute Ellie Bellie. I gotta get the Axe Man somewhere that he can sleep."

"I set up the pack and play that's still hanging around here in the bedroom down here. I also grabbed the old baby monitor I had so we can take it outside with us." Jeremy stood up and came over to take Axel from my arms where he was laying on my chest while I laid on a lounger. Once I stood up he led me through the house as I grabbed the bag of stuff for Axel. Jeremy gently laid Axel into the pack and play while I found the things I knew soothed him back to sleep if he woke up mid-nap. I kissed my fingers and pressed them against his forehead. "Ellie calls you Mom."

"She does. That was her choice. We talked about it for a while. I'd always been Auntie Charlie. When she started school she got anxious about the whole 'living with her Aunt thing'. I am their legal guardian and she knows she can still call me Charlie, she does sometimes. But the Mom thing is becoming more common, I think she wants to feel like the girls in school with her. It makes me happy and sad all at once."

"I'd imagine." He turned on the baby monitor and we left the room so Axel could sleep. "Alright, girls are the parents allowed in the pool now?"

"Yes, Daddy," Ava replied. I took my dress off and went to climb in the water. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Jeremy pull his shirt off. I felt the breath catch in my lungs. I needed to remind myself that I was here for Ellie and not to drool over Ava's Dad all day. I headed to the stairs and entered most of the way before going completely under and swimming up right under Ellie picking her up on my shoulders. She squealed with delight. Her hands grabbed onto my head as she bent over to look into my eyes.

"I am having so much fun," she said quietly to me.

"I'm so glad Ellie Bellie. You deserve to have fun." I watched as Jeremy ran and jumped over Ava and into the pool. He splashed all of us and what followed was the sweetest sound in the world. Loud, roaring laughter from the girls. I held my breath and sunk down into the water letting Ellie get off of my shoulders. Jeremy came up underneath Ava lifting her up and throwing her a bit further into the water. Her laughter climbed louder and turned to a scream.

"Ava Berlin Renner, I'm coming to get you," Jeremy declared as he started to swim towards his daughter who was still giggle-screaming and trying to swim away from her dad. It was far too cute to watch. They shared so much joy between them and it was so visible. Even in the brief time I'd spent with them today, I could tell that they loved each other more than anything and that love was the easiest thing they'd ever done. That joy, laughter, and happiness were the tone of this house and their lives. Life wasn't always filled with joy and laughter for us. Most of the time it was filled with laughter that came from tears or lead to tears. I was watching these two beautiful humans that were now mine grow and knowing that the two most important people in their lives were missing out on the first steps, the first day of school, and would miss every other first and major life moment. I felt guilty every day for loving this role I was given because the circumstances were shitty and honestly, I'd never wanted this roll. It felt horrible to enjoy motherhood when it wasn't really mine. It was stolen from my best friend whose entire goal in life had been to be a mother and mine had been to make music that inspired people, set the scene for the greatest shot of a director or actors lifetime and changed the way people looked at female composers. I took a deep breath before hugging Ellery close to me.

"I love you, Ellie Bellie." I kissed her temple.

"I love you too, Mom." The tears that were burning the back of my eyes had clearly become visible. "Please don't cry. Today is going to be the best day ever."

"I know baby girl. I just don't want you to feel like today you have to say, Mom. Ava's Daddy knows."

"You are my Mom." God I hated how grown up this little girl had been forced to be. I kissed her again before looking her deep in the eyes.

"Do you remember that backflip we practiced last summer?" She nodded excitedly. "Want to try it?"

"Yes!!" I grabbed her two little feet in my hands as she put her hands on my shoulders. She bent forward, pressing her forehead against mine.

"Are you ready?" She nodded. "On the count of three. One...two...three." She plugged her nose as I pushed her feet out of the water sending her up into the air and watched as she started to tilt, tucking her knees to her chest and doing a backflip.

"Whoa!" Ava yelled as Ellie came out of the water. "That was so cool. Where did you learn that?"

"My Mom and I practiced last summer at my old house. We don't have a pool here so we haven't tried in a while."

"You did so great!" I said as I high-fived her.

"That was so cool, Ellie," Jeremy said as he also high-fived her. She was pretty proud of herself. The girls started to goof around with Jeremy as I floated on my back for a little while. Their laughter slightly being drowned out by the water. I felt relaxed, weightless, and like if I tried hard enough I could fall asleep like this until I felt my watch buzz on my wrist. I held it up in the air as the little green text bubble appeared with my brother's name below it.

I'm losing my mind. I'm packing my car and leaving today. Is that ok?

"Crap," I said out loud. I flipped over and swam to the edge climbing out of the pool and walking over to my cell phone. I knew texting him back would be useless so I called.

"Hey sis," he answered.

"What's going on, Tony?"

"I just can't take it. They don't understand the pressure they are putting on me. I'm going to crack if I don't leave. I got up this morning to Mom on the patio with one of her 'old friends.' It was that crazy bitch whose husband is on the Board of Trustees at Harvard. I was ambushed with talk of law school and my future and I just can't take it. I haven't really bothered unpacking since I got back from school so I'm just loading everything into my car and coming out. That's okay right?"

"It's fine but are you sure this is what you want? My life isn't what it used to be like, T."

"I know. You have the kids. You're doing the music stuff on your own. You and Savannah could honestly use my help."

"You can stay at my condo if that is a better plan for you."

"It's not," he replied. "I stayed there last weekend. She showed up Sunday morning at 7:30 to pick me up for church. Since when does my mother go to church?"

"I don't know. Probably since I became a mother. Her technically being a grandmother of five terrifies her. I also bet it was just so she could see if you were living in my drug den because you know your mother thinks I'm a drug addict or something."

"You're one of the most responsible people I know. But honestly, I can't do it. I can't be in the same city as her. Especially when Dad is as busy as he is right now. She's everywhere. I need out."

"Just drive careful. It's not a horrible drive but it's long to do alone. I've done it enough to know that. Also, there are a few good places to stop on the road and some to avoid. I'll send you the cheat sheet I have saved on my phone. Oh, and what do you want for dinner?"

"Well, I want Grandma's meatballs but I know you can't make that today."

"I can make it tomorrow. How does pizza sound tonight? Your niece and nephew are counting on pizza."

"Sounds perfect."

"Send me updates, be safe, and I'll see you tonight."

"See you tonight, sis. Love you."

"Love you too, T." I hung up the phone and slumped down onto the lounger I'd been sitting on earlier.

"Everything okay?" Jeremy called from the pool.

"Yeah, just not sure we'll be able to stay as long as we planned."

"What's up?" he asked as I walked back towards the pool and sat down on the side so I could text my brother the list I told him I'd send.

"So I was evidently right and my brother had tried staying at my place. His Mom appeared in my condo at 7:30 Sunday morning to take him to church, no one in our family is overtly religious. Then this morning at their house she ambushed him with a friend of hers whose husband is on the Board of Trustees at Harvard about law school and his future. So he's currently throwing everything in his car and leaving LA to come here now. He wasn't supposed to come until next week. The studio apartment above the garage is so not ready for my brother to move in."

"Well how about we stay and have fun for a while longer here and then Ava and I can go to your place with you and I can help. Savannah can watch all of the kids and we can get your brother moved in safely and feed the munchkins pizza for dinner at your place."

"You're serious?" He nodded. "You're amazing. Thank you. I'm not sure what all he's bringing or that he wants the apartment but I feel like the studio apartment above the garage is the best plan. I mean honestly, it's my favorite part of the house." I laughed a little bit.

"It was supposed to be your Peter Pan dream home so I get it. How long do you think it will take?"

"Not long. I just need to essentially clean it a bit as it's probably covered in dust and wash the sheets. I don't even remember the last time someone stayed in it. It was probably me. It was also maybe my sister. Frankie got freaked out when I moved, she thought I should sell both houses and move near her so me moving 8ish hours away didn't go over well. I also now win the war of who has the coolest house and that annoys her to no end."

"That's actually kind of funny. Where does she live?"

"Venice, on a canal. The cutest house ever really. But she is like a 3-minute kayak ride from where our mother lives when she's actually back in town so it would not have worked for me. Living near them both would've made me crazy. My Dad and Step-Mom are in Santa Monica. So my family is all on the beach which is really nice for trips home."

"Sounds like it. I totally had your stepmom pegged for Malibu though." I started to laugh really loudly.

"Funny story, when they sold the house in Beverly Hills that I grew up in my stepmom BEGGED my Dad to move to Malibu. He was not willing to make that commute every day so she got to pick from Santa Monica, Venice or Marina Del Rey if she wanted water. He tried to downsize into a condo in downtown LA but that wasn't gonna happen. So they are right on the beach, have a pool and all of that fun stuff. It's a great house. It truly is and even though it's way too big for the people in our family that live there Mandi has clearly figured out how to make Tony batshit crazy." I pulled up the text message that Tony had just sent me. He'd clearly packed his car in record time to get out of there before he went completely bonkers. I couldn't blame him but I also hoped he didn't get here and in a week hate it because I wasn't going to wait on him hand and foot while making sure he was constantly entertained. I nannied for him a few summers when he was a kid so it's not surprising that he thinks I'm just there to have fun but truly I need to be an adult on occasion and my brother was horrible at encouraging that behavior.

ON THE ROAD!

Be careful. We will see you in a few hours!

"You guys are gonna be okay. If your brother starts to go stir crazy just send him over here. I can put him to work on some of my projects."

"I don't think Tony understands the concept of manual labor. He's never had to have a job. He worked in school at a bar because he could pick up girls that way." I laughed as I rolled my eyes. "His Mom still doesn't know that. He's a genius. By far the smartest one of all of us. Law School has always been what everyone expected from him but I think he'd rather do something completely different. He's an incredible musician, a great writer. When he was in high school he was a giant science nerd and I fully expected him to become a doctor or some shit. I think he wants to work in journalism or politics based on what he studied in school but our Dad definitely thinks he double majored in Communications and Public Policy to go into First Amendment Law. I mean Dad would be proud if someday he ended up in politics but the Law School things would be a requirement first, or at least the smart decision. It's all ridiculous. I mean my sister runs a non-profit and I'm a musician. While we both make a really great living we were allowed to choose our own path. Tony has the pressure of carrying on the family name and legacy."

"Law is the family legacy?" Jeremy asked. He was resting his arms on the side of the pool next to me. I hadn't had this kind of conversation with anyone in a long time.

"It is. Our great-grandfather founded Dad's law firm and Tony would be the fourth generation there. There had been some pressure on Frankie and me for a while. She met her husband in college and thankfully he was headed to law school so Dad got his fix by having his son-in-law as part of the firm. My senior year in high school I thought I'd just buckle under the pressure and follow in his footsteps. But when I had my senior recital for piano my Dad told me he wasn't going to allow me to do anything but follow my heart. I think that the fact that I'd written the score for a short film a few friends did help too. I wasn't going to follow my dreams in the back of a van on tour but follow them through film made him happy. I caught the bug for it young. We had a theater room in the house and I'd spend every weekend watching movies and trying to figure out how to play the music on my piano. Eventually, he had to set rules that I had to spend a certain amount of time outside so I didn't just sit in that theater for days on end, especially during school breaks. I was way too young to be watching most of them but it was the thing that made me happiest."

"That's really cool. I had no idea what I wanted to do, even in college. I loved music and was in a band in high school but I never saw that as an actual future, it was just something fun to do. I was studying computer science and criminology when I took my first drama class and caught the bug. I'm almost jealous that you knew so young what you wanted to do. "

"It's nice but I also never did anything else. I loved swimming. I should've done things like join the swim team but that would've taken me away from music. Being a hyper-focused kid was nice because there was no question of what my future would be but I missed out on so much. I want to make sure that doesn't happen to the babies. I need to start getting my shit together. I'm a year into this now, there are no excuses for this anymore. Like Ellie should've been in dance during the school year but by the time I found a place that didn't seem sketchy I was too late to sign her up. I've been teaching her piano for like 8 months now but she has so much more personality than I have ever had. She's way cooler than me."

"You're pretty cool," Jeremy said through a bit of laughter.

"Her Mom was seriously the coolest though. God, one of my favorite things about Sam was that we had this pretty big premiere for a film we'd done the score for. I sent her the photo of the dress I'd decided to wear. The night of the premiere arrived, the car was picking she and Michael up first and then coming to get me. I had done an entire afternoon with a fucking glam squad, totally out of my element. Get down to the car, there she is, with her head sticking out the sunroof in my dress. She bought the black and gold version of the black and silver dress I had. We walked the red carpet in a matching dress." I pulled up the photo on my phone and turned it to show Jeremy.

"That's amazing." He took the phone from my hand to look at both of the pictures that I'd pulled up for him. "She's very beautiful, I can see her in Ellie."

"Spitting image. It's almost creepy but it's wonderful."

"Well, you both look absolutely beautiful in those photos. You both look so happy. Maybe I'll have to creep your IMDB and watch a few of the films you've done the score for." I laughed.

"Ask first, some of them aren't great and some of them are literally impossible to find...unless you're in my basement theater. I don't have a career that's as accessible as yours."

"Well then maybe we will need to have a movie night. I'd love to be able to see your work."

**********

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Developing the story of how Charlie became a mother was something that was hard for me. I debated back and forth about all of it. Trying to decide the traumatic event that led to the loss she's experienced and the new role in life she has. I had a few ideas that I tossed around but the reality was, for Charlie to become the guardian of both of Sam's children it couldn't be just Sam that was gone. There were so many possibilities, I settled with this version because while it is traumatic it didn't involve any domestic abuse, which was something I wasn't comfortable telling the story of in this setting.

Losing Sam was one of the hardest experiences of Charlie's life for a multitude of reasons. She lost her creative partner, her business partner, her best friend, and became a Mom all in the blink of an eye. She'd never prepared to be a parent and was an insta-mom to a 4-year-old that wanted to know where her Mommy and Daddy were and a baby that wasn't even a month old. Add in that she opted to move the children out of Los Angeles for their own privacy and security even though it wasn't the best option for her personally. She immediately knew to put those babies first.

For Jeremy to allow her to open up about this trauma and let her talk through it shows how kind and good he is. Grief is a different process for everyone who experiences it. For Charlie she still deals with the trauma every day and needed to find someone to talk to about it. Finding that in Jeremy is something she feels so lucky for.

I also can't wait for everyone to meet Tony! I love the idea of him being around the house to help his sister, be part of the kids' lives, and try to find his way in the world all at once. Developing Tony is so fun because he's still fairly bright and shiny, he's not dark and twisty like Charlie.

I hope you are enjoying reading this as much as I am enjoying writing it.

xx. AM

[storytell]

@inkblccd​ asked

shiroe, niccolo, and tatara! tell me of your muses paris i need to know

shiroe is pretty much the person everyone is most afraid of in log horizon, despite being the main protagonist. he’s very intelligent and creative, and he’s a master manipulator, able to carry out plans without the people in them even knowing they’re part of his plans.

...HOWEVER, he actually does dislike that he doesn’t let his friends know what he’s up to, and he constantly strives to include them more in what he’s planning so he doesn’t feel like a bad person. this sort of goes hand in hand with the fact that he honestly doesn’t think he’s a good person despite how much good he does for the sake of others--he tends to focus on the ways in which he falls short, rather than the ways in which he excels.

he’s accidentally adopted so many kids. he likes teaching people and guiding them, but thinks of himself as a terrible teacher, so it always surprises him that he’s ended up adopting like 5 whole kids (tetra counts). along with this, a lot of people really look up to him, and he’s a good leader--but he himself doesn’t realize how good of a leader he actually is.

he would DEFINITELY get along with ja’far. he’s not a hard person to get along with, so i can also see him at least being amicable with kyosuke, kuro, nic, tressa, and soo-won.

let me scream.     /     accepting.

niccolo is the head of a mafia family in italy known as the carpediem family, and the eve of gluttony (who he’s named ildio). a lot of his current subordinates are ildio’s subclasses, who have been named after various italian foods and drinks. he’s very protective of the members of his mafia and will put all his fear aside to try and avenge them.

speaking of all his fear.. he’s baby. he would jump at his own shadow. he’s in constant fear and he has so much anxiety that his anxiety levels are BEYOND through the roof. the only people that don’t scare him are people he knows he can trust, and even then he’s anxious because he doesn’t want to let them down.

he took over the family after his father’s early death, and he wasn’t prepared for it, so he’s not really the best leader. usually, he relies on his most trusted subordinates to help him out. also, he goes out into the fray himself only if it’s a big deal. he doesn’t have any particular qualm with killing people, but both he and his servamp don’t like killing kids and will avoid it when they can.

i don’t think he’d necessarily get along with any of your muses because he would be scared of them, but he’d be the least scared of tressa, probably?

i’ve already explained tatara in this ask, so i’ll just do the muses she’d get along with. she wouldn’t mind akutagawa, just because he doesn’t seem like he’d be the type to cause trouble in her shop. also ja’far (for similar reasons) and olivier (she thinks his chainsaw sword is neat). 

[the-questionmark-kid]

Fenrir - Day 4/5

Raising a puppy in winter is tough.

If it were nice, downtown or a cafe would be an option. Directly after we got Shade, literally minutes after, we went to Starbucks and sat outside and I truly believe that, combined with the people she met there and then being surrounded by tiny children shortly after, really set the stage for her easy-going, laid back nature. Fenrir is, unfortunately, a December baby (our birthdays are 7 days apart, which I find very funny) so he’s getting a shite deal in the outside world department. He doesn’t seem to care about the snow necessarily, but he is hesitant to walk on it on pavement. I avoid it, but I don’t want to baby him any more than he already has been - it’s not hurting him, so he can deal. Also he stepped in a puddle of his own volition directly before we got hit with a gust of snowy wind so really, he’s only got himself to blame for his mishaps. He also keeps trying to jump off the couch by way of the arm rest. It’s...a really good thing puppies are pretty much rubber at this age.

We met a guy and his kids on their way to school today, and a year old dog, Daisy (plus owner). Yesterday we met Duke, a big friendly black Lab and his mom and dad, plus a friend of mine dropped by so they met outside. Fen loves meeting new people, and he’s pretty good about it. But I’ve noticed a worrying thing - Fen really, really wants to meet and play with dogs, his body language screams “play with me”, but he nips at their faces. I didn’t notice him doing this the first day I got him - he met a puppy and a big GSD at the store and he was relaxed. But he definitely snapped yesterday and today, whining and tail wagging the whole time: it put Duke off, and Daisy’s hackles went up, even though she was still trying to be friendly. Her owner raises fosters and she said that it looked like Fen’s play is defensive, like he is very aware that he is so small and while he wants to play, he is also scared. She also guessed that if he were running around in the park with other dogs, he’d probably be fine, which is something I’d agree with - dogs can get weird on leashes. 

Fen has had all of his puppy shots, but we’re going to his first vet appointment today for a physical, blood work, and all that good stuff. I’m going to ask the vet about training classes or even just professional trainers, around here - I live right next to Petco but I don’t trust Petco dog trainers as far as I can throw them, and their “training” space is not ideal in the least. We’re also going to stop by my workplace so he has a chance to meet everybody there - I think my coworkers have been almost as excited about Fen as I was, so that’ll be good for him. 

I wish I knew people who had chill dogs and cats that were used to puppies. I’m having a hard time remembering what we did with Shade at this age, but I do remember she pretty much just had the run of the place. We tried crate training her but I’m pretty sure we gave up on that because she hated it so much (probably about as much as my foster from last year). She had a few accidents in the house but overall she asked to go outside and we let her out, off-leash, and she came back in. She followed us around the house like Fen does. The cats didn’t care for her much at first and scratched her nose a few times before she learned she had to be gentle and calm - I’m honestly just waiting for Regal to do the same. Obviously I don’t want Fen to get hurt and I don’t want Regal to feel threatened. But at the same time, that’s just....how I’ve known these things to resolve themselves. Pretty sure the same thing happened with Riley and my stepmom’s old cat - she gets along fine with the new kitten...who I guess is grown up to a full cat now, but they play together and Gizmo tells her off when he wants. The cats are still a novelty to Fen so I’m not surprised he focuses on them when he sees them. He’s just impossible to distract. 

At this point, Fen just needs exposure. I feel sort of bad because I’m really not good at being social - I don’t like talking to random people, I’m terrible at small talk when I’m not in a specific frame of mind, and I’m constantly anxious about what people think about me when they meet me. Meeting strangers with Fen is easier, because I can just talk about him, but generalized anxiety is a pain and it’s never ending. Hopefully that gets easier over time too. 

[lavender-noire]

Read on MTS

As perfect as it is in theory, a white colonial style house with two stories, a big blue front door with a golden knocker emblazoned on the front is terribly unrealistic for life in the city. The property alone required for that sprawling backyard would cost a fortune worth several lifetimes over. Not to mention the price of that immaculate green lawn out front. Then there's the cost of the never-ending parade of gardeners for the grounds, housekeepers for the rooms, plumbers for those four bathrooms she insists were absolutely necessary, and of course, a nanny for the children, because how dare he expect her to renounce her career just because she's created a life. How god damn dare he. But no. Of course that's a ridiculous fantasy for a working couple living in the heart of Downtown Pleasantview. There's the cost. There's all that space, mocking her with its unresponsive emptiness. And moving back to the suburbs is obviously out of the question. The thought of being walking distance from her mother and sister makes her heartbeat spill into her ears. Not again. Besides, the apartment is nice enough. Nevermind that the floors creak and the porch light still isn't fixed after sixteen weeks of asking.

The apartment is cool inside, despite the heat of the day pooling just outside the kitchen window. Her tiny porcelain cups of wheat grass and soil are appreciative for the unobstructed light. Angela's gaze doesn't falter from looking across the table to admire her plants, proud as she is. A jolt of pain leaps up from the small of her back and across her vertebrae, then comes to rest somewhere at the base of her skull. Heat and throbbing soreness moans warily from the bottoms of her feet. Her skin chafes every second of every minute to accommodate her growing belly. To cope, she frantically applies butters and creams to her stomach at every trip to the bathroom. Sometimes she looks at her body in the mirror and grins, eager to meet the person sleeping inside it. Other times, she sobs as her mind suffers to reconcile her swollen belly and tired legs with the image of herself she's known for forever until now. Sometimes she plucks the hair from her scalp to regain some sense of control over the metamorphosing landscape of her own physical form. Sometimes she screams into a folded towel. Every time, she blots a makeup sponge under her eyes, reapplies her lipstick, and returns to society all clean and pretty.

Gazing back at his wife from across the table, Jake can't help the upward tilt of his lips. She's glowing. People always say that about pregnant women, but he's seen pregnant women, and nobody radiates like Angela. The muted scent of lavender and linen trails after her wherever she goes. Distant starlight catches the green of her eyes and blinds him with her absolute perfection. It wads his stomach in knots to look upon her and then remember himself.

She knows she's too good for him. She doesn't have to say as much, of course. The entire world showers cherry blossom petal praise and congratulations for her charming manner, pretty face, and sharp wit, then recoils in horror when they realize that man beside her is her husband. The sweet, sticky odor of hair gel and body spray heralds his presence before he even enters a room. Years of drunken revelry and cigarette smoke has made his voice husky. He saunters from place to place, constantly late, his attentions and affections carried on an unpredictable wind. They've moved more than twice because asking him to turn down the volume of his music is an assault on his creative expression. His reputation precedes him everywhere. "Him?" they all say. And it's getting harder to respond.

Her eyes linger on him as he walks past. She wrinkles her brow and implores his broad back to explain just what it is that tethers her to him. She hardly noticed him at all in college. He was her sister's plaything back then. Jacob Martin existed merely as a deep voice comingling in the raucous laughter that emanated from behind her sister's door. He was the nonchalant arm draped around Lilith's shoulders at the cafeteria. He was the lazy cheek kisses and the napping body beside her on the couch in the common room. He was an accessory to her antics, equally directionless and shallow. But a single drunken night of dancing and stolen kisses under the yellow glow of a streetlamp, and he's Mr. Pleasant-Martin. Angela smiles a meek smile. It had been a fun night, at least.

He perches on the couch beside her, crossing his legs at the ankles. "Angie, I've been thinking," he says. Angela cringes at the bastardization of her name. It's Angela, she wants to say. It's been six fucking years, Jacob, you know I like it "Angela", not "Angie", "Angel", or even goddamn "Jelly". But she steals a moment with eyes pinched close, a wrinkle of the nose, then responds, "What's that, babe?" He blossoms. Pet names are rare. "I want to throw you a baby shower. I promise, nothing big, just a little get-together for family and friends here at the house. I'll be conservative with the music, I'll leave the menu to you, and it'll just --" The corners of Angela's lips bow in not quite a smile. "It sounds great. Let's do it."

Of all the extended family, Jacob's dad is the over the most often. Angela thinks their relationship is unhealthy. Codependent. Jacob thinks that that's an overdramatic, assumptive assertion that she makes because she lives in abject fear of her own mother, and can't comprehend a relationship that deviates from that. He would never say so, but it's what he thinks. "Dude!" Jacob cries as he bats his father's hands away, "Don't tickle me, I'm like thirty." Andrew grins a lopsided grin and buries his fingers in Jacob's sides, "Shut up, you love it." They share a laugh.

Antithetical as they are, the two family groups mix without incident most of the time. Mary-Sue attempted a conversation with Jacob's father once. While the conversation languished around stocks and the state of the economy, she was perfectly enthused. Once Andrew decided to dust off the fart noises and impressions, Mary-Sue had written him off as an intellectual dead end. These days, she greets him with a single nod of acknowledgement and nothing more. Andrew, who cannot bear the thought of not being liked, nurses his hurt feelings with food every time he and Mary-Sue are in the same room. It works for them.

Lilith and Jacob remain friends, though not as close as they used to be. They lounge around the house together watching television or playing video games under Angela's skeptical surveillance. Neither one has any interest in rekindling their sexual relationship, but Lilith likes the anxiety in brings to her twin's stupidly immaculate household, so she lets Angela worry.

Angela's eyes flit between her sister's face and the protrusion of her own pregnant stomach. She surveys with displeasure the shaggy red tresses that drape across her twin's forehead and curl near her ears. It's better than when she was bald for a year, sure, but not by much. Angela finds it hard to look at her sister for more than a few minutes at a time. The familiarity of those features -- that same freckled nose and pale face, those same, cutting green eyes staring back into her own -- makes her want to peel her skin off and inhabit someone, anyone, else.

She dips her chin downward to draw attention to Lilith's belly. "That's new. Don's the dad?"

Lilith smirks. "Sure is."

"I'm glad we're pregnant at the same time, this way our kids can --"

Lilith cups her hand before her lips and shakes loose a yawn. "Angela, nothing would be more boring to me than playing the whole 'twinsies' game with our kids and forcing ourselves together for Sunday brunch or whatever contrived, inauthentic bullshit you've concocted to appease our terrible mother."

Anxious, incensed butterflies flood Angela's stomach. Their sickly yellow wings bat against each other. Scarlet heat rises to the surface of her skin. Her face flushes. Her ears numb. She can feel the blood swirling beneath her flesh, and it makes her sick. She fixes a smile upon her face as she winds her fingers into fists at her sides. She pictures glass fracturing in the beds of her palms, sheer edges pressing to her skin and alleviating the thrum of her heart, the rage in her veins, for just a moment.

It's fine.

"Congratulations, Lilith." she softly says.

It's fine. Angela is a great daughter-in-law. She's intelligent. She's lovely. She's kind. She is an excellent addition to any family, and anyone who doesn't see her value is obviously worthless, themselves. She throws her arms around her father-in-law and wraps him in a warm embrace. He smells like paperwork and brandy, and for a moment, Angela worries that he's driven here. Nevermind. She pulls back.

"Andrew, thanks for coming. We're always so happy to have you."

She wonders if he can tell her words are hollow.

Angela's mouth begins to water and her stomach lurches. Nausea blurs her vision and burns her throat. She touches a few fingertips to her lips and heads for the bathroom.

A melodic voice cuts through the mental noise awash in Angela's head.

"Angela!" the voice says, "Congratulations, sweetheart! Have you picked out any names?"

Her throat constricts and the gushing, angry bloodflow ebbs for a moment as she registers Meadow Broke's face. She can feel her pupils reduce to pinpricks in the center of her eyes, a thieving raccoon caught in the glow of a flashlight. Her attention bounds between Meadow and the man approaching behind her. Oh good, Dustin's here. It was only a kiss and she didn't know they were engaged. Either way, Meadow stole him from her first, so really, it all cancels out. They're over it. It's fine.

"Hey!" she says too loudly, "Th-thanks for being here. I have a few names I really like, but Jacob wants to wait until we meet the baby to decide."

Meadow chuckles. "And it's driving you crazy, right?"

She presses the inside of her lip between her teeth, then forces a laugh. 

"Completely nuts."

Mary-Sue Pleasant has a way of looking through to the core of people. She sees through the miles of coping mechanisms, aesthetic distractions, and defensive walls to the heart of their character. In another life, she may very well have made an excellent therapist. But in this one, her perception and intuition about people is stained by the inky black streaks of judgment she paints upon them, deeming them worthy or not of her respect, her acceptance, her praise. Currently, she looks upon the unkempt frame of her son-in-law at a party he's cobbled together to celebrate the impending arrival of the child he's made with her daughter. Mary-Sue is elated at the thought of meeting this darling bundle of untapped potential, but immeasurably disappointed when she considers its father.

"Hello, Jacob," she says dully as he makes his approach. He looks stern.

"We need to talk. Before the baby comes, before anybody makes any decisions about childcare, education, expectations -- whatever -- you and me have to talk."

Mary-Sue cocks a brow and leans onto one hip, her arms fanned confidently at her sides and and utterly unimpressed frown scrawled across her face. "I agree, we do need to have a discussion."

Jacob parts his lips, but Mary-Sue plows through his opportunity.

"I'm not like everyone else, Jacob. I'm not going to do this dance with you, protect your flimsy self-esteem. Let me be transparent: I am unhappy with the choice my daughter has made. I don't think you're right for her or for this family, but I cannot make her decisions for her. What we're looking at is an eternity tethered to each other through this child, and while that's obviously not ideal for either of us --"

"I don't have a problem with you, Mary."

"Mary-Sue. And fine, obviously it's not ideal for me. But seeing as there's no way around it, there are a few things I'm going to need from you. One, find a real job. I will not have my daughter and grandchild's fate hinging on the potential for upward mobility for a DJ."

Jacob scowls. "Emcee."

"That is literally the exact same thing, Jacob. Do you even hear yourself?" The older woman sucks in a breath and releases it with great effort. "One, real job. I can get you a job at Dirk Dreamer's firm, and you will take it. Two, the child will attend private school and university, nonnegotiable. Three, get a real house. I will not have my grandchild raised in an apartment of this condition on the poor side of the city. Are we clear?"

Jacob grits his teeth. "You're being insanely demeaning to me in my own home at a party I threw to honor your daughter, and I won't take your --"

Mary-Sue clucks her tongue and shakes her head softly. "Mind your tone, Jacob. It's Angela's party and we don't want to cause her any undue stress, do we? Think of the baby."

Jacob sighs. "Fine. But we'll continue this later."

Mary-Sue chuckles. "If we must."

"Oh, hey Angela. You feeling okay?"

Angela brushes her wrist across her mouth, having emerged from the bathroom renewed. She glances down at Jules O'Mackey, sitting sentinel upon the sofa.

"Me? Yeah, I'm great."

Jules warms to her just a little. "Well, good. I've watched you run around all night long, and I wanna be sure you're okay. Want to sit?"

Angela shakes her head with a neighborly smile. "No, but thank you. I prefer to stand."

"Alright. Just mind your stress, alright? I have no doubt you can handle it, I'm just thinking of that kid in there."

Angela nods.

Jules glimpses some space else with a wistful sheen in her eyes. "I just can't believe Jake is having a kid. I mean we're all at that age, right? Everyone's got their partners now, Dustin and Meadow have Summer, and -- it's silly, but as a kid I was so sure Jake and I were gonna end up together. I wonder if he'll say anything about me to that little guy of yours."

In her stunned silence, Angela can hear the sound of Jacob's voice as he spins a mostly true story from the kitchen.

"Anyways, Lilith told me there was no way to crush a full can of soda against my head, and I said 'not with that attitude, there's not'. So that's how I wound up getting eight stitches in my head at the hospital on New Years Eve."

She watches Jules' smug, self-satisfied freckled fucking face, something monstrous bubbling to the surface. Her shoulders pitch and her nostrils flare once, then twice. She can feel her throat constrict and her muscles pull against the bone. She inhales through her nose and cool air meets her scalding lungs. She plants a loving hand upon her own stomach and glowers down the bridge of her nose at Jules. It's fine. It really is.

"Don't worry, Jules, I'm sure it'll happen for you eventually," she says, a cakey sweetness laden in her voice.

"And that's how I met Angela again after college!” she can hear Jacob sing from the kitchen.

Angela steals away to the bedroom after most the guests take their leave. She sleeps an uneasy rest, drenched in sweat, sharp pains electrifying her skin and insides from her navel outward. She yanks her entire body upright and fumbles with the blankets, hands shaking. The sheets are drenched down to the mattress, and her body aches under the immense pressure building in her abdomen. She can't catch her breath. She throws herself from the bed and wails, grasping at her stomach.

"Jacob, wake up!" she screams.

"Wait a minute, let me call the hospital." Jacob mutters as he tears himself from the bed.

"No time!"

"Holy shit, is that--?!"

The minutes pass like small eternities, one by one, and eventually, where before there were two, there are three.

Angela pulls the baby to her chest and wipes away the sweat from her forehead with an arm. She presses a few tired kisses to the baby's skin before inhaling his scent.

"Whoo! You did it, Angie! And I'm only sort of traumatized for life."

Angela smirks against the baby's shoulder. "Wanna hold him?"

“What do we call him?” she asks.

There’s a palpable thickness to the silence between them. Jacob gazes into the brand new face of his child -- his child -- and two little brown eyes gaze back. He chokes on the wet wad of emotion that eases up his throat, then replies.

“Munn.”

“What? ‘Munn’?”

“His name is Munn.”