#that she doesn't want fans to be aware of but they are the reality and duh they're hidden BECAUSE that would ruin the way the

[whiskeyswifty]

.

[justlemmeadoreyou]

Can I request for an blurb?? Never requested to anyone but I have this idea!!

So like H nd reader is in a relationship but H being famous nd all so because of that media nd his fans doesn't know he is in relationship nd to hide that thing he had to do PR relationship with someone else!! Nd he doesn't acknowledge that he had being ignoring reader nd spending more time with that pr girl!! So one day H came home nd reader was crying nd saying to H "do you love me?? Nd saying please don't leave me" nd H assure her she is it nd in few months he proposed the reader by saying how she is the only girl for him nd to never doubt his love for her!!

Ahh so sorry for such a lengthy request!! Nd it's okay if you don't wanna write!!:)

words: 4k (sorry!!!)

warnings: angst, lots of it. a fake pr, crying, some smut too. happy ending.

i changed this a bit, especially the ending. hope you don't hate this!

***

"I miss you," you whispered into the dark emptiness of your bedroom, clutching Harry's pillow tight. Another restless night alone while he was off being pictured with that pretty model for their fake relationship.

When would this torment end? Your heart ached constantly from the secrecy and lies shredding your real romance with Harry. All you wanted was to be open about your love...

It had started off so blissfully a year ago when you literally crashed into Harry outside of a coffee shop. You'd been rushing out the door, distracted and clumsy as always, when you rammed straight into a solid wall of human. Your face went bright red as you scrambled to pick up your scattered belongings.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry! I'm such a disaster, I seriously need to watch where I'm going..." you babbled, finally looking up into the kindest pair of green eyes you'd ever seen.

The man was watching you with an amused tilt to his soft lips. Something about his tousled chestnut hair and casual style felt vaguely familiar, though you couldn't quite place him. 

"No worries at all, it's my fault. Are you alright?" He asked in a deep, sumptuous voice that made you shiver.

As realization dawned, your mortified expression deepened. "Oh wow...you're...I just headbutted Harry Styles in the stomach."

He laughed easily, dimples flashing as he bent to help gather your dropped papers. "Very impressive ab attack there. Been taking self-defense classes?"

You flushed again at his playful teasing, finding yourself surprisingly flustered by this international superstar's carefree charm. Most celebrities seemed to carry an air of inflated ego, but Harry radiated a humble warmth.

"Do you, er, come to this cafe often?" He asked curiously as you both stood. "I don't think I've seen you around before."

Tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear shyly, you shook your head. "No, I don't. I was just stopping in for a coffee on my way to work."

"I see." His gem-green eyes slowly traced over your features, as if admiring a fine work of art. The intensity of his gaze sent a tendril of heated awareness washing through you.

Before you could think better of it, you blurted out the first thing on your mind. "Would you...maybe want to get coffee? With me, I mean? Right now?"

Harry's full lips curved in an amused smile. "I'd love that, actually."

You could scarcely believe this was reality as you led him back inside the cafe, trying not to visibly swoon at the casual brush of his fingertips against the small of your back. For the next hour you talked and laughed more freely than you had in ages, feeling utterly intoxicated by Harry's mere presence. Everything about him radiated authenticity and vulnerability, a creative wildness simmering beneath his polished exterior. You felt like you could be yourself with him instead of carefully cultivating persona upon persona as you did with most people.

By the time you forced yourself to reluctantly leave for work, exchanging numbers with Harry, you were positively giddy. Dancing through your day in a euphoric bubble, you hardly noticed the pitying looks from coworkers.

"You know he's just gonna ghost you, right?" Julie the receptionist said flatly when you told her about your morning coffee date. "Have you seen how many girls fall all over themselves trying to get Harry Styles' attention? You're out of your league, sweetie."

You frowned at her harsh dose of reality. As if you weren't well aware of your lack of impressiveness compared to supermodels and actresses in Harry's orbit. Still, you couldn't shake the magnetic connection you'd felt with him, the bone-deep certainty that he was someone truly special. 

Much to everyone's shock, Harry didn't ghost you. In fact, a simple text from him that evening asking how your day was led to a rapid-fire exchange of messages stretching long into the night. Over the next few weeks, your life revolved around hushed phone calls, secret rendezvous at out-of-the-way cafes and restaurants, and marathon conversations revealing every layer of one another.

Harry was purely intoxicating - a whirlwind of brooding intensity balanced with vivid spontaneity and an excellent sense of humor. He seemed utterly fascinated by every small detail you revealed about your life, respectful in a way that made him feel like a wonderful dream. And you fell harder and harder for Harry with each passing day. Something about his quiet attentiveness and insatiable curiosity about you made you feel cherished in a way you'd never experienced before. Gone were the shallow, vapid interactions you were accustomed to in the dating world. With Harry, you could truly be yourself - he somehow coaxed out your authentic self that you typically kept heavily guarded. 

At the same time, you were in absolute awe of the whirlwind of depth and experiences that defined Harry's life. His stories of touring the globe, writing deeply personal lyrics, collaborating with musical icons - they all painted a vivid portrait of an artistic soul soaring to brilliant creative heights. You drank in every glimpse into his inner world like a lifeline to another realm of existence.

Yet whenever you'd express feeling unworthy of his profound love and admiration, Harry was quick to sweetly rebuff you.

"Y/N, you dazzle me more than anything I've experienced in this mad career of mine," he insisted one evening over a cozy home-cooked meal you'd prepared. Catching your hand across the table, his green gaze pinned you in place. "Don't you see? Your warmth, your light, your way of finding detailed beauty in such seemingly ordinary moments - that's what enchants me. You make me want to shed all the superficial trappings of fame and just...be."

You felt yourself falling deeper and deeper, tumbling into an intimacy more profound than you'd ever imagined. If Harry hadn't told you himself that he'd only had a few relatively tame celebrity girlfriends in the past, you'd never have believed his immense experience from the way he worshiped you.

"So responsive, so gorgeous," he rasped against your swollen lips, calloused fingers stroking delirious patterns over your sensitized skin. "God, I could spend eternity between your legs”

Those stolen passionate encounters, tangled up and gasping one another's names with wild abandon, only added to your lovestruck infatuation. You felt deeply seen and cherished on a soul level, like you were both puzzle pieces finally slotting seamlessly together.

In the dreamy, lust-addled haze of new love, you almost didn't notice the growing tension in Harry's manner as typical relationship pressures began encroaching. Paparazzi grew increasingly aggressive in tracking his day-to-day movements whenever out in public. Well-meaning friends expressed concerns about the obvious strain he was under from lack of a romantic life in the public eye. And perhaps most troubling, his management team forcefully "suggested" it was time for him to embark on a high-profile PR romance to capitalize on album promotion and touring.

Harry had looked utterly fed up that evening when he broke the news, pacing in your living room.

You watched him apprehensively. "They want you to do...what? You mean...go along with a staged relationship? Like have a beard or something?"

"No! Absolutely not, I won't do it. I won't treat you like some secret, and I refuse to fake anything in my private life for publicity."

"Harry..." you tried to soothe him, rising to your feet and rubbing his tense shoulders. "I understand the pressures you're under-"

"No, you don't!" He rounded on you with surprising intensity. "You don't get it, Y/N. You are the best, most precious thing in my world - my safe harbor from all the bullshit fake expectations. I won't sully what we have with PR lies. I just...won't."

His words were at once incredibly romantic and terribly naive. As much as you longed to stay cocooned in the warm, intimate bubble of your relationship, you knew the real world would inevitably intrude. Harry was a public figure on a massive scale, his romantic life constantly scrutinized. For the sake of his livelihood, he might not have any choice but to bend to the publicity machine's demands.

***

Those first seeds of conflict only blossomed further over the following weeks as the PR relationship issue remained unresolved. You did your best to stay supportive and understanding, but it was a challenge keeping your own hurt and insecurities at bay.

"I just don't see what the big deal is," Harry groused one evening over a tense dinner. "So what if they want me to go out a few times with some model or actress, let the paps get pictures? It doesn't mean anything to me."

You poked at your food sullenly. "It's not that simple though, is it? Couldn't something like that, even if fake, seriously complicate things for us?"

He reached across to squeeze your hand. "Baby, you know you're the only person who matters to me. A little PR sham doesn't change how utterly mad I am about you."

But it did change things, whether Harry wanted to admit it or not. The striking difference in how he treated you, his real partner behind closed doors, compared to how he'd have to pretend with someone else for public consumption - it stung deep.

One night shortly after, you were cuddled up watching a movie when Harry's phone started incessantly buzzing. Pulling it out with a furrow in his brow, he quickly scanned a series of messages and emailed photos. An unmistakable look of chagrin crossed his face.

"What is it?" You asked, unable to ignore the sinking feeling in your gut.

Harry sighed, shoulders slumping. "Looks like the publicity team is really pushing ahead. They've, uh, they've arranged for me to be caught having dinner with Kendall Jenner tomorrow night."

Your heart plummeted as an uneasy feeling settled over you. This was really happening - right before your eyes, your private intimacy was being infiltrated with PR lies.

"So you're...going to be going out with her? In public, on a fake date, while the whole world watches?" You tried and failed to keep the hurt out of your voice.

"Not a date!" Harry was quick to insist, shifting closer to pull you into his arms. "Y/N, you have to understand this doesn't mean anything. It's all just smoke and mirrors, love. You're my world, I promise."

You wanted so desperately to believe him. But the lingering ache still took root somewhere deep inside as you watched the paparazzi frenzy ignite over Harry's "outing" with Kendall. Photos of the two models laughing intimately over drinks and dinner plastered every gossip rag and website for weeks. 

It soon became a narrative that followed Harry everywhere - probing reporters shouting questions about whether he and Kendall were officially an item now. Rabid fans prying him online, trying to get every new shred of detail on the new, perfect couple.

"Hey, come here," Harry murmured soothingly whenever he saw the sadness and uncertainty cloud your eyes. He'd pull you into his chest, peppering kisses over your face. "I'm yours, baby, only yours. None of that bloody circus matters to me, I hope you know that."

You wanted to have his quiet confidence, truly. The way Harry could compartmentalize the fake PR relationship and his very real feelings for you with such clear separation. But it didn't stop the anxiety slowly gnawing away at your trust and security.

Increasingly, special romantic gestures from Harry felt like overcompensation for all the public affection he was faking with Kendall. When he'd surprise you with extravagant getaways to exotic locales, you couldn't fully relax into the pampering without wondering how much of it was just hiding guilt. And his constant reaffirmations of his love and devotion started ringing hollow amidst the growing circus his life was becoming.

The worst of it came at one of his first concerts after the publicity whirlwind began. You'd been so looking forward to experiencing the screaming crowds in a whole new light as Harry's actual partner, not just a casual fan. But the huge video screens kept flashing candid photos and fake couple shots of Harry holding hands and hugging Kendall, selling their phony romance to the fans.

You couldn't hold back the tears slipping down your cheeks as Harry serenaded the arena full of thousands, having no choice but to play along with the charade on the world stage. He caught your eye for just a second during the encore, and his smile instantly morphed into a look of sheer sorrow and guilt, looking at your tear-ridden face. He knew you, even if he stood so much away from you.  But there was nothing he could do then except push forward with the manufactured story.

That night after the concert, an emotional Harry fell into your arms the moment you were alone in his dressing room. He clung to you desperately, peppering apologies across your tear-stained and defeated face.

"God, Y/N, I'm so sorry," he rasped, emerald eyes awash with remorse and frustration. "Seeing you hurting like that because of this bloody sham...it killed me. You have to know how madly in love I am with only you."

You nodded, finding it hard to speak past the lump in your throat. Of course you knew, deep down, that Harry loved you wholly. His attentiveness, the intense spark of intimacy and passion between you, the emotional connection - it was all achingly real. This PR relationship was merely a toxic byproduct of his celebrity, something massively unfortunate but not defining your actual bond.

And yet...Harry couldn't deny the growing chaos enveloping his personal life. The fake romance was now Priority One to his team, staged and milked for every ounce of publicity. Constant video calls and strategy sessions mapped out each calculated move - where Harry and Kendall would stage a coffee run for the paps, when they should be papped holding hands emerging from a nightclub, how often they should update their couple-y Instagram shots together.

Harry grew increasingly sullen and withdrawn the more deeply engrossed he became in maintaining the facade. And you couldn't ignore the mounting jealousy and hurt rapidly corroding, chipping away your self-esteem and faith in the relationship.

***

"Maybe...maybe we should take a break," you finally broached one afternoon after an especially grueling set of publicity demands. Harry's head whipped up from where he was moodily going over plans for an upcoming awards show appearance.

"What? Why would you say that?" There was an edge of panic in his tone. He looked shocked, but you knew it was a long time coming.

You shrugged. "Harry, can you honestly tell me you don't resent me at all for the toll this whole – charade has taken? That some part of you doesn't wish you could just live your life freely without me holding you back from giving publicity stunts like this your full effort?"

He immediately rushed to gather you into his arms. "No! Never, Y/N. You're my world, my everything. Without you, all this would mean nothing!”

Burying your face into the strength of his shoulder, you wished you could cling to his words and find comfort there once more. But the turmoil swirling around you was rapidly becoming too overpowering.

"I'm just...I'm so tired of feeling like an afterthought, Harry. Of being the dirty little secret you have to hide away while flaunting someone else to the world. I can't keep living like this, sinking into doubt and jealousy constantly."

Harry's arms tightened around you convulsively. "Don't say that, my love. You could never be an afterthought to me. I need you here, by my side, to keep me grounded and remind me of what's truly real."

Though his words warmed your heart, you found yourself pulling back to gaze at him searchingly. "Then prove it. Enough with the grand romantic gestures, the desperate promises. I need you to actually fight for me, for us, instead of just going along with everything. Either that, or–” the lump in your throat deepend, “ –you can let me go”

Harry was taken aback by your words. But still, there was a part of him that didn;t fully understand what you were going through.  "You know it's not that simple, Y/N. One wrong move that tanks this publicity team's plans and my entire career could crater."

"So what?" you challenged, tilting your chin defiantly. Harry wasn't the only one being forced to make impossible choices. "Is the career really more important than your actual life, your happiness in a real relationship? Because I love you with everything, but I can't keep sacrificing my sense of self-worth and spinning out into reckless jealousy every waking moment just so you can have the best of both worlds."

"I...you have to understand, none of this publicity shite actually matters to me. Not really. It's all a smokescreen that will fade away eventually. But you, us - this love is my truth, my be all and end all. Don't give up on me, baby. I'll fix this, I swear it."

You wanted so badly to believe the desperation in Harry's voice. But the ache of sadness and insecurity had burrowed too deeply. What once would have swept you up in romantic adulation now just hollowed you out further.

"I really hope you can, Harry," you rasped, pulling away with immense reluctance. "Because I can't keep holding my breath waiting for the other shoe to drop much longer. This half-life just isn't enough anymore.I can't, Harry.I can't keep living like this."

Harry looked hurt now. He knew it was only a while before it all came shattering down, but the thought of Y/N walking away felt like a shard of glass lodged in his heart. 

"From this moment on, things change," he rasped. "No more bowing to bloody publicists and image managers. My truth, our bond, comes before anything else. You're about to become my permanent bloody shadow, love."

A smile curved your lips at his words. Reaching up to trace the sharp edge of his chiseled jaw, you felt a wave of relief and renewed hope. "Well, I do make a devilishly charming shadow, if I say so myself."

Harry's gaze drank you in like a man rewarded with an infinite oasis after years of directionless wandering. "That you do, baby. No more hiding that radiant light of yours, yeah? "

He sealed the vow with a kiss that seared straight through to your bones. You clung to him, every brush of his hands and velvet tongue rekindling the deepest intimacy between you two. 

When you finally pulled apart, chasing oxygen, Harry made an immediate move to sweep you up into his arms like a blushing bride. "Come on, love. Let's go remind the world of who they're dealing with, shall we?"

You looped your arms around his neck with a giddy laugh as he strode through the penthouse with you cradled protectively to his chest. Despite his determination, his hold was soft, cherishing. Like you were something infinitely precious to be handled with utmost care, or you would break.

Without explanation, Harry marched you both out and down to where a sleek black car was out front, the doorman quickly ushering you inside the backseat. Once the privacy partition rolled up, Harry immediately turned to you.

"I mean it, every word," he stated plainly. "No more deceptions or hiding our connection. From here it's full transparency and only the truth."

you felt overcome by tenderness and awe. "So...does that mean an end to the fake relationship with Kendall then?"

"Among other things," Harry confirmed without hesitation. To your surprise, he reached into his pocket to retrieve his phone and thumbed it open to the camera app, situating you both in the frame. "We're going to document and share every moment of us, the real us. Let my supporters and fans see who truly holds my heart before all others."

You blinked in astonishment as he looped an arm around your waist, pulling your bodies flush as the camera captured. Was this really happening? After all your heartbreak and insecurity brought on by that disastrous PR relationship, was Harry truly throwing it all to the wind?

That was clearly his intention as he leaned in to nuzzle your cheek dotingly, snapping pic after sweet pic of shameless embraces and intimate caresses being exchanged between you. Each time the shutter clicked he murmured loving adorations, his focus immovable.

"Gorgeous girl...my forever woman...heart and soul of my entire world..."

You blinked back tears. When was the last time you'd felt this elevated by Harry's worshiping? Your shaky exhales intermingled hotly as he maneuvered you fully into his lap, slanting his mouth hungrily across yours.

"My everything," he growled against your lips before kissing you breathless.

"Harry..." you finally managed to gasp out as you pulled apart, "what are you doing? If you post those shots, then-"

"Then the whole world will know I'm mad for you, and only you," he said, with nothing but seriousness and devotion in his voice,  "No more closeting my actual partner away like a mistress to be hidden from disapproving eyes. You're the only romantic relationship fully grounded in truth that the world needs to be focused on."

You shivered at the assurance in his tone. This was really it - the definitive line in the sand. And with Harry looking at you the way he was, you couldn't find it in yourself to argue or question further. You simply melted into his heat, losing yourself in the incredible feeling of being staked as his claim.

With a few taps, Harry posted the first of intimate photos and captions that set the internet instantly ablaze. Breathy confessions of forever love intermingled with searing makeout shots - it was a rush of letting go of months of pent-up passion and adoration for the world to finally bear witness.

All the while, Harry refused to tear his stare from worshiping every inch of your body. His broad palms trailing over the exposed curves of your hips, waist, the swell of your breasts - anchoring you fully into the present.

Your social media was immediately swamped by a plethora of comments, tags and speculation over the tsunami wave of intimate reveals. Harry's fanbase seemed to have divided between celebration and outrage over their beloved idol being so thoroughly claimed by an average nobody. 

More jarring, however, was the media/PR teams' explosive reactions. Both your phones blew up with frantic calls and enraged messages demanding explanations and emergency meetings. As expected, the team working to orchestrate Harry's fake relationship with Kendall were melting down over the sheer negligence of you both, and damage control now being initiated.

For a long while, you both simply ignored it, too immersed in devouring the rebirth of your connection to spare any attention elsewhere. You reveled in being subjected to Harry's fervent, undivided worshipping as his fingertips and lips swept across every velvet hollow and slope. His sensual assault was purposefully overwhelming, etching his permanent claim over your quivering form.

"They'll keep the noise up for a while, try spreading all sorts of misinformation and manipulation to regain control of the narrative," Harry finally mumbled without breaking the rhythm of stripping you bare and lavishing undivided attention over each exposed new expanse of satin flesh.

You shivered beneath him, and he tilted your chin up with a knuckle to capture your gaze, "But none of that shite matters now, okay? All that matters is that I’m all yours now. Only yours.:

And you were never letting him go.

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

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[rockrosethistle]

so I've been thinking about why that scene between Duke and Miss Holloway hurt so bad, despite us knowing it was going to happen in advance, and I think I've blown this case wide open

for a refresher, here's the potential plot that Starkid released as a teaser for Nightmare Time 3:

The choice of words here is the key.

"...when Duke gives her an invitation to his wedding, the dejected Miss Holloway..." Pretend you don't know how this scene goes. Or better yet, how did you first imagine it?

At that point, we as the audience were aware that Miss Holloway has erased Duke's memory, likely multiple times, and has had to rebuild her relationship with him over and over again.

Because of that, the way I pictured the scene is that Duke would be all newly-in-love and excited when he gave Miss Holloway the invitation, and she would pretend to be happy for him then go off and cry about it.

It's still tragic, but the tragedy lies in the fact that Duke chose the wrong girl. We take comfort in the fact that he can still be won over, or at least that he's still happy, even if it makes Miss Holloway miserable.

Starkid took this notion and flipped it on us. And that's why it hit so hard: the tragedy isn't that Duke is stupid in love with the wrong person, it's that he loves Miss Holloway, and he's unhappy with Abigail. In the same way, Miss Holloway loved Duke, yet she can't be with him.

The tragedy comes from the fact that no one is making the 'wrong' choice in the situation, they both have good points. Miss Holloway can't be with Duke because of the way her powers work. Duke has tried and failed to be with Miss Holloway, and the fact is he does need stability. There's no bad guy here. They're both right. So there's no evil to be defeated, and nothing they can do.

Take that and add the consequences of Duke getting married. He can't go on missions with Miss Holloway anymore, so their whole relationship unravels. Now you've got yourself a recipe to break the fans

The last point is, we know Starkid. And we know Hatchetfield. there is no guarantee this story is going to end happy. In fact, there's a pretty good chance it will be bittersweet. And that's enough to ruin us all mentally

Duke wanted to say "Heya Darling," but the reality just doesn't allow him

[alicedrawslesmis]

I know I just said I didn't want to just be complaining about everything so I'll try to word this in a more constructive way asdfghjkl

It's hard to be an Eponine fan in a world where the musical -and On My Own specifically- is sooooo mainstream. Because imo as much as On My Own itself is kind of a half-decent, if simplified, encapsulation of Eponine's struggle with her love for Marius if you analise the lyrics in isolation, the musical as a whole, her role in the narrative as the unrequited love diva (I'm also simplifying here. I don't think this is super fair to the anglo musical, but compared to the book there's no question of how they reworked her into a glamorous 80s diva contralto because musical theatre has usually very strict gender roles), did her so dirty. So dirty. And imo often her character is reduced to her pining in fandom as a result. And I don't like that, personally.

I love that girl so much. I love that she is just young enough to still be a child but adult enough to be aware of her social role. She has one foot in the gamin life and one foot in the adult world. I love the tragedy that is the fact that she likes the beauty and pomp of high society girls and wish she could have silk shoes but knowing she can't.

And also being super resigned to her class despite it, she doesn't believe she ever will have any of that. She resents that too, somewhat. The tragedy of her knowing that she couldn't be with Marius because of his social class and her accepting that (angrily? sadly?). I love her self-banishment as his guard dog because of this. I love her drunk sailor voice. I love how manipulative she is and that she isn't Marius's friend at all. He's just her one neighbor who wasn't a total asshole one time. He was, later. But not at first. And she can't be in his head and know he thinks she's kinda despicable because crime because Marius is a judgemental little shithead.

And Eponine isn't an idealist, she's resigned to her position. I understand why she gets paired with grantaire in fics but her canon narrative parallel is Javert, they both believe they are excluded from society from their outcast position and so become the watchdogs for it. Eponine a kind of guardian (in her own words a devil, not an angel) and Javert the same. That's why he's the one person who sees her in the barricade, he's the same as her. Marius saw her but that's only cause he had a use for her in that moment, as soon as she didn't he forgot all about it.

I think also Gavroche, with his ability to be kind of a figure above the narrative, with his gamin skills of being almost omnipresent is something Eponine used to have, but with her age she's starting to lose that. She's starting to grown old enough that she's required to be IN the world and not supercede it. Gavroche is also almost there, if he had been allowed to grow up he would've lost that ability too. They both inhabit this sort of magical surreal world superimposed on our own.

A lot of Les Mis and Notre Dame de Paris can be kinda described as magical realism, I would go so far as calling them urban fantasy. And characters like Babet, Thenardier sometimes, Gavroche, Eponine (and Javert sometimes as well) are inhabiting this magically charged layer. This reality that's imposed Over the real world.

Talking about that One Series Of Wizard Books is a bit passé rn so uh. Doctor Who. Particularly the initial New Who seasons before they got that huge budget. That's a good parallel to what I'm getting at. The real world is still the same but there are certain characters that inhabit this mystical overlayer and are able to transverse from one to the other (Javert can't really because he is stuck forever outside and the second he understands that you CAN'T be an unbiased outsider who only enforces the norm without participating he freaks out and literally dies about it). Eponine is right in the eye of the storm tho. She manipulates reality to get her way, to die with Marius, because that's as close as she can get to being with him. And she manipulates reality to protect him too. Contradictions be damned. She has many contradictory feelings that make her complex and cool and an awesome character whom I love and wish would stop being reduced to the glamurous mysical theatre role with a single black stain on her face and a beautiful actor and a big unrequited love song about a random boy (whose personality was also changed for the musical and I argue is probably the character that was most fucked up by it in the public perception because he's such an weird little self-insert of an even weirder guy. But I get it, the musical is long enough as it is).

Anyway, I wish eponine could be more of a mongrel, a little gremlin. A little rat child that's just beginning to grow into an adult and is self aware of her role in the narrative society. She's a teenage girl which already sucks to go through when you're not constantly starving and cold and being forced by your father to work and do con jobs. Marius is the object she attaches herself to, but it could've been literally anything. Javert did that with the social order, he protects and guards it. She just chose Some Guy instead. Which, we all have that one friend who does that too. Like girl you're too good for him. Come on let's get you sone ice cream. And clean clothes and a roof. Literally anything. Bread.

I think if Eponine had a roof over her head and like, food on the regular she would forget Marius exists. Same as Cosette if she had moved to England. Like he'd be that one intense crush they had as teenagers. Can't say the same for him tho. He would hold onto that for the rest of time.

[outsideratheart]

La Reina and La Diosa (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

A/N: It only seemed fitting to write a fic to celebrate Alexia's return to the squad and to post it seen as though we’re through to the final!

In a way it felt like yesterday when you got the call telling you that Alexia was hurt when in reality it was 296 days ago. In those 296 days you have witnessed Alexia's strength and determination first hand and it inspired you to play every minute as if it was you last and dedicate every game to her as she watched on in the stands or at home.

It wasn't easy been on the pitch without her, in fact in the 10 years you have been with the club you can count on one hand the amount of games where she hasn't been on the pitch with you. It's why the energy is different as the team travels from El Johan to Camp Nou.

Alexia has a smile on her face that you hadn't seen in a long while. The two of you, as well as some other players, sit at the back on the bus, she sits opposite you but your feet are touching under the table, every so often you would give each other a nudge as if you were school children.

"Something's changed. The team is happier than normal" Lucy says from her seat beside you.

"Ale's back. Her presence puts everyone at ease" You look at the brunette who sits across from you.

"You more than anyone else. I haven't seen you this peaceful since before you got the call back at SGP"

It wasn't a memory you were fond of and the days that followed were some of the most challenging. You told the lionesses you were withdrawing from the Euros and it sparked outrage amongst the majority. Since been in Barcelona Lucy and Keira saw first hand what you wanted to protect and if put in the same position again they would encourage you to go home and be by your wife's side.

"Everything is better when I have her by my side"

Little did you know Alexia had heard what you said. She kicks you gently and when you turn your attention to her she mouths 'I love you' to which you respond 'I love you more'.

Whilst you enjoyed the company of the english defender beside you, you did have a pre match ritual which starts with you blocking the outside world out. Taking your headphones out of you bag, you place them over your ears and play your playlist that had been curated for this season specifically.

"She's found it hard without you" Mapi tells Alexia "she tries to hide it, especially from us but we see the moments when she is with Lucy and Keira"

Mapi was telling the truth. The entire team felt the absence of Alexia but as Captain it was your job to lead them and you couldn't do that if you were obsessing over the fact that Alexia wasn't there with you. They saw the moments of frustration when you play balls to Patri who doesn't react because you do so without out saying anything. That's how it was with Alexia, she knows how you play and what your are thinking, words aren't needed between the two of you.

"Don't take offence to whatIi'm about to because I love you all, I really do but I can't want to back on that pitch with her, it's where I belong. For years it has been Y/N and Alexia"

"La Reina and La Diosa" Mapi adds the fan given nicknames that you and Alexia both loved and hated at the same time.

"Right, well for years it has been us and by her side her playing football is where i'm the happiest"

"You two are disgustingly cute" Alexia gives Mapi a look "Oh please you have been playing footsy under the table since we left the car park"

Like every game you are the first off the coach but you wait near the door until the team is off, Alexia is the last one to descend the steps. She stops on the last step, out of sight, and you see the hesitation on her face.

"You ready baby?" you are aware of the fans and cameras around you so you keep your tone low so that only she hears you.

When she nods you step aside and the fans erupt upon seeing the player that they have been waiting for.

"Wait a minute" you grab her hand as she walks towards the entrance "Listen to that, they're here for you, take it in"

Alexia turns around to face the fans. They chant her name, the sound gives you both goosebumps. When you see her close her eyes you know that she is savouring the moment. The way you look at her is hard to describe, saying it was the look of love didn't do it justice.

You don't realise you are staring until you feel her tug you hand. The small act of PDA sends the fans wild as they rarely get to see you and Alexia interact with each other in this way.

Jona had talked with you about Alexia's return and when it should happen. The setting was perfect; La Reina makes her return at Camp Nou but you wouldn't risk her career.

"Remember what we talked about?" He says just before you leave the locker room.

"Yes. The decision is mine, I'll you know if I think it's the right time"

"I'll wait for your signal Captain" with a supportive pat on the back he leaves you be and after a few moments you walk through the tunnel and to your rightful place at the front of the line.

The game is close, too close, with both teams scoring making it 2-1 so when Jona asks you at half time you reply saying that a 60 minute sub is not an option.

70 minutes into the second half Chelsea are pressing hard and it feels like a goal is imminent. AKB goes down and requires treatment so you take this time to talk to the team and regroup.

"Time is running out, he needs to bring Alexia on" It is the first thing Mapi says causing you to roll your eyes.

"No, that is not an option and it's not his decision, it's mine"

"What do you mean?" Aitana asks.

"Jona isn't on the pitch, he doesn't feel the intensity that this team is playing with so he left it up to me to decide if Alexia comes back in this game. Right now Chelsea are fighting and some of their tackles are dangerous, I myself have been on the end of some gruelling ones and I won't bring her on only for her to get hurt again"

"What do we need to do?"

"Score. We need a comfortably lead. If we make it 4-1 in the next ten minutes I'll give him the signal"

With a purpose other than to get to the final the team go back to their positions, ready to do whatever it takes to get Alexia back where she belongs.

If Chelsea thought Barcelona was attacking heavily before this point they would be mistaken but everyone on that pitch is playing with a new found energy and it caught the blues off guard making the home side unstoppable. When Mapi finds herself in space just outside of the box there is only was option going through the blonde's mind, she winds her leg back and hits the ball with the most power she has this season so it comes as no surprise when the ball hits the back of the net.

"That's one" Her arms are wrapped around your neck as you make your way back to your side of the pitch "Now are you going to be the one to score the goal that lets her play?"

It wasn't like you were't trying. You had scored a goal in the first half but the Chelsea defence was a back 4, 3 of those players where your national team mates who knew you very well. It made your job very hard but the way Mapi worded her sentence made you want to, no you needed to be the person to score the next goal.

When you get fouled a couple of meters away from the box, Barcelona are awarded the freekick. Mapi, Mariona and yourself stand over the ball but you all know who is taking it, the other two are simply there for a decoy.

When you turn to face the bench Alexia is up on her feet, she knows what's coming and she is ready to celebrate. The faith she has in your in infectious. You face the goal, close your eyes to block out the noise and imagine that it's one of those countless times where you and Alexia have stayed back to practice free kicks. The ball hits the top corner leaving AKB with no chance of stopping it. You and the team celebrate in front of the ultras and when you are back in your place you look towards Jona and hold up your index fingers, making the number 11.

It is time.

Alexia is subbed on for Keira and the whole stadium erupts in a sound of applause, players on the pitch join in, even the Chelsea players. Nothing compares to the happiness you feel knowing that someone you care deeply for is happy. You are overcome with emotion as Alexia runs onto the pitch.

"Are you crying?" Frido asks.

You are unaware of your glassed over eyes, the only thing you focus on is the Catalonian who is smiling from ear to ear. Not wanting to be caught by anyone but the Swede you bend down and pretend to tie your laces. You stand up just it time for Alexia to reach you. You wanted this moment to be special so you take off your captain's armband and pass it to her, this was her moment after all.

"No" Alexia pushes it into your chest "You've been by my side as my wife this entire way, now I want you by my side as my captain"

"Welcome back La Reina"

"Good to be back La Diosa"

The next ten minutes, Alexia will remember them for the rest of her career. The way the ball felt at her feet as she ran up the pitch, the way she saw you running down the middle. It was something that she has seen before and when the ball travelled towards you she knew the weight behind it was perfect. You header the ball into the back on the net and it means more than any other goal you have scored thus far in your career. Alexia is standing arms open wide waiting for you.

"Bloody beautiful" you praise her assist.

"You never did miss those shots, nice to see some things haven't changed"

After playing 4 added minutes the final whistle is blown, you had done it, you were going to Eindhoven and more importantly Alexia made her long awaited return. The team celebrate the latter more than anything because this team was a family and it was a special day for one of their own.

As captain and POTM you are called over for media much to your annoyance but you also know if you don't do it then they will call for Alexia and you wanted her to enjoy the moment and not have to worry about journalists.

By the time you are done Alexia is stood in place talking to Mapi, the person who didn't leave her side when she first got injured. It was a personal moment and you didn't want to interrupt so instead you turn to the crowd in search of the person that will be feeling the same overwhelming emotion as you, Eli Alexia's mother. She stands proudly with her hands clasped over her heart as she blows you a kiss, one which you happily return.

"Y/N" hearing your name being called by her never get's old.

You pick her up and spin her around whispering praise and congratulations in her ear as you do so. Alexia's legs wrap around your waist and in an automatic response your hands travel downwards to her bum so you can hold her up.

"I did it" Alexia only ever voiced her doubts to you but you told her time and time again that she would come back stronger.

"I told you so"

You look her in her eyes, those hazel eyes that you could get lost in. Her happiness was evident in the way they sparkled under the Camp Nou lights.

"It's the first time I've played in this" she brings her left hand in front of of you and shows off her taped finger "It feels weird"

"You get used to it" you tap your ring finger on her bum.

Her arms remain around your neck as you put her down. You could hear the screaming fans but they were nothing more than background music for the moment you are currently having with Alexia.

"I want to thank you Y/N. You never gave up on me, not even when I gave up on myself which happened more times than I'd like to admit"

"We made a vow Alexia. In sickness & in health, for better or for worse. I broke them once and I will never do it again"

"How many times do I have to tell you that you didn't break your vows and you didn't betray me. You had a country to lead last summer and watching you play, watching you win those awards at the end of it and lift that trophy, it inspired me more than you could ever imagine. You were my source of motivation every day whether that be in rehab, in the gym or on the pitch"

One thing is for certain, you are in awe of the woman standing in front of you. You often had moments like this where you freeze in front of Alexia so that you can see her, really see her.

"What?" Alexia brows furrowed upon feeling the intensity of your gaze.

"You're amazing and I'm incredibly proud of you. You say you gave up but you didn't. Look around Alexia, you have just made your comeback in front of a sold out Camp Nou and you get to play in yet another Champions League final"

"We can get play in the final. It's me and you Y/N and I'll never take this" she points at the stadium around her then at you "for granted"

Oh how you wanted to take Alexia home and have her to yourself for the night atlas it was wishful thinking. Sensing that your conversation was coming to an end Jana runs over and pulls Alexia over to the fans so that they can celebrate. She ushers for you to follow and you do so happily albeit a little bit slower so that you could enjoy the sight of your wife celebrate the moment she has been waiting the last 9 months for.

[moonieyunie]

I just noticed how I've already intentionally manifested with LOA and I didn't even forcefully tried to believe in it? I didn't obsessed with it and just tried to be in my 4D sometimes more instead of my 3D and just said "well, that's how it is now" and then it manifested.. I think it's not needed to constantly affirm and to saturate your mind if you can simply accept your 4D as a controller of your reality.

What I've manifested:

• +3k € on my bank account (never expected that I will get so many 😭 I think it manifested bc I already imagined as if my parents have won the lottery and I will get thousands of euros), I just manifested this on saturday.

• My period finally stopped after one month of constant bleeding (I refused to get checked by my gynecologist bc she was SO RUDE, so I decided to manifest my period away.) It stopped two weeks ago.

• I didn't needed to sew in my workplace for the last weeks (bc I'm not a big fan of it lol) I still had to do it sometimes but I wasn't constantly reminded that I should switch to sewing again.

-

Those are not really big manifestations, but I'm glad that I have the knowledge about LOA and how I can control my reality, I used to doubt myself a lot in these times and kept on reading about LOA and then it kind of clicked after some time, it delayed my manifesting a bit, now I know that I don't need to do CRAZY stuff to manifest things, instead I just can ASSUME from what dimension I want to manifest things, so saturating your mind with thousands of affirmations until you get the worst headache in your life is ABSOLUTELY NOT NEEDED. I think you don't need to constantly make yourself aware of your 4D, but rather try to avoid the 3D and what it tells you. Really stand up for yourself and say in your head "no what she says doesn't matter! I know that I have it.".

[howtobecomeadragon]

here's what mlvn's say about their ship and what they want from s5 when they're not feeling defensive about byler:

(these are from a reddit post posted about a month ago with no byler interactions, and these are many of the same people claiming that mlvn is perfect, there are no big issues, etc when byler is brought up as an alternative ship. all of these comments have upvotes and no arguing. they were all on the same page with no defensiveness about the perceived shortcomings of the relationship and wishing for better for mlvn in s5.)

many acknowledgments that the ship has been sidelined

acknowledgment that El does NOT compliment Mike. acknowledgment that Mike's self esteem is tied to El, although there is no awareness that this not a good thing. they want to see El supporting Mike in some way, which means they know we're currently missing this. they want to see just 20+ seconds of Mike and El enjoying each other's company. "more than 20 seconds" bc the show does this with other couples but they're still waiting to see that with mlvn. 🤨🤨 "it's only fair." ooookay, and who always says shit about fan service?

acknowledgment that mlvn as a couple has sucked for the last two seasons, for half the show, for the entire time that they've officially been a couple. always going back to the romantic moment of "El fell into his arms in the sauna test" which was not a scripted moment, MBB literally collapsed and Finn caught her. always going back to El being protective, i.e. making sure he doesn't die, which she does for everyone in these scenes.

this was a really interesting one bc I think a lot of bylers think that mlvns want to see improvement from Mike’s behavior in the relationship, but most were more focused on El needing to do more.

"she hasn't demonstrated concern and empathy so much for Mike in the last two seasons" 🤨 then why do you ship it 🤔

"I don't doubt how much El adores and care for Mike but she needs to show it better/more" 🤔🤔 ohhhhh okay, so you have decided that El adores Mike and are frustrated that this isn't reflected well in El's behavior since they've been a couple. you made up your mind probably in 2016 and are frustrated by the lack of follow-up and progression in their relationship since 2017. gotcha. 😇😇

mlvn's blame the writing for El appearing to have inconsistent motivations and characterization bc she isn't a perfect girlfriend to Mike that doesn't act like she's head over heels. hmmm. 🤔

someone seems to be about halfway there in realizing that maybe with her lack of a good foundation of socialization when she entered into a romantic relationship, she doesn't have the standard emotional growth, but not quite extending that as far as "maybe she should grow a little on her own first." reminder that when a byler says something like this, they're accused of ableism and "disregarding what El wants"

acknowledgment that we have not gotten to see mlvn functioning as a couple and that we don't know HOW they function. we don't know their bf/gf dynamics. after 4 seasons. mlvns are often stating to bylers that their endgame ship is already set, all that's left is a happy ending, but in reality they are still hoping to see how their ship functions as a couple, to see one half of the ship compliment the other half. they don't doubt that they are endgame, but they're crossing their fingers for just bare minimum coupley interactions, while all the other established couples get those. I wonder why 🤨🤨

acknowledgment that the duffers haven't been interested in portraying mlvn as a perfect couple: "flakey history"

claims that El was more mature in s1 than s3 and s4. WILD coming from mlvns that call bylers sexist. "more mature" bc she seemed to like Mike more. El not acting like a perfect girlfriend to Mike is bad writing and a total mess apparently. totallllly not purposeful at all, nope 🙄

more acknowledgment that El hasn't been a great girlfriend to Mike. some overlapping reasons with bylers (she's not complimenting Mike, she never apologizes), some not (the root of this is bc she takes on too much responsibility for everyone's safety...?).

acknowledgment that the way mlvn is functioning now is NOT a 2 way functioning relationship and that El is NOT meeting Mike's emotional needs. no acknowledgment of who does meet Mike's emotional need, though. 😏

acknowledgment that their relationship thus far has been bogged down with "unnecessary" arguments and drama

acknowledgment that they don't really discuss their feelings now and there is air that still needs to be cleared

acknowledgment that the writing is good otherwise in the show but for soooome reason it lacks when it specifically focuses on mlvn's relationship. 🤨🤨 again, still hoping for those scraps of "how do these two even play off each other" in the final season and the third season of mlvn together as an official couple.

all of this to say really: the super aggressive mlvns on reddit, for the most part, know that they're exaggerating the idyllic nature of mlvn's relationship when they're arguing against bylers. they thought mlvn was really cute in s1 and s2 and have been waiting 6 years since 2017 for their relationship to be cute again, and they're frustrated and just wanting the bare minimum in s5.

they're still waiting for the basics about "cute moments that last more than 20 seconds," they're still waiting to see how they function as a couple despite them dating for 2 seasons now. they're still waiting for El to act like a good girlfriend and not just a "superhero."

[creepy-friday]

I love these ideas so much but imagine the proxies with the Operators daughter🤔

I saw this a couple of years ago in a fan fic but it was really bad and had the stereotypical proxies

But like the proxies with “human” reader who unknowingly is the Operators daughter

And the only reason that she doesn’t know is because her mom is human and she looks like her mom but she still is immortal like her dad?

Creepypasta Proxies x Slenderman's Daughter!Reader

The Slenderman's origins are vague and unknown in terms of his past,so this gives me plenty of freedom to play with the idea

I imagine that a long time ago,he was a simple married man looking for a just-as-simple life.One day,the war made them run away,separating him from his pregnant wife in the process.

The soldiers found him shielding children from the horros of war,and killed them all on the spot-making him tied to their souls and to the forest as well.

His rage made him erase most of his memories except the ties of his existence.That's how his powers were based on his past,erasing memories,provoking headaches and nosebleeds as the ones he experienced during the war,and having a problem with the technology he didn't get to live to see developing.

Several years later,the pregnant woman was found dead but with a miracle inside of her-a living baby soon to be burned by The Church.The crime was stopped by a family who took in the living baby.

Since Slenderman doesn't remember his past,he can feel a deep connection to you,that's why he ordered his proxies to watch you for a while

All of them are left confused,but obeyed.They all tough that he either wanted to recruit you or to keep you for "personal reasons"

"Did the old man got the jollies for a younger woman?" Masky joked,giving a friendly hit to his friend's elbow."I wouldn't say so."

"Well,so?" he asked.

"I don't know,but it's not that." he ended the conversation,fully believing that Masky wouldn't get his point of view anyways.

Your arrival in the mansion made the residents super aware and weary of you,since you gave off the same aura as your father(but with a feminine touch,I imagine more mystery rather than eeriness)

Masky's typical fucker behaviour would mellow down SIGNIFICANTLY

Sure,he can still be a dick but in a more "I don't fuck with boss's daughter" type.Everytime he would get angry with you he would simply bite his lip,clench his jaw,and hold back

I imagine the reader being confused and slightly scared,unaware of her importance in the mansion,at the same time I can see her having an angry breakdown as to why these murderers keep her here

Hoodie would try to keep you calm,but at the same time he would expose you to the reality of the mansion.He wouldn't hide bloody stains nor the scars around his body

Your aura never affected him but rather kept him interested,completely absorbed in your mystery but at the same keeping a safe distance from you

Toby would be the one to probably tell you why you're here💀I can see him trying to form a bond with you much like he would do with the maid reader in the other au,such as wanting to become your safe resort

Would they talk about you behind your back?Fuck yeah,after all,you're the only "human" that is connected to their boss more than the other creeps are

The romance would be angsty if you would engage in it,after all you're eternal while the others are very much ephemeral

[missmonsters2]

—AMBEDO | NINE

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x OFC/Fem!Reader

Summary: You've been taken from right under Wednesday's nose. Finding you is a given, but it's really a question of who is saving whom. Wednesday shouldn't be surprised that she's complete entranced by the sight of a fallen faerie.

Warnings: canon level violence. long villain monologues. Enid & gang doing their best.

Series Masterlist | Library Blog | AO3

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Note: just two killer gfs 🫶 also i can't believe the next chapter is the last one 😳

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Part Eight

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Ambedo: Noun. a kind of melancholic trance in which you become completely absorbed in vivid sensory details—raindrops skittering down a window, tall trees leaning in the wind, clouds of cream swirling in your coffee—which leads to a dawning awareness of the haunting fragility of life, a mood whose only known cure is the vuvuzela.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Wednesday touches item after item in your studio. She holds whatever Thing passes her and tosses it when nothing happens. Wednesday knows she can't force a vision, but that doesn't stop her from trying. Her hands run along the ground, trees, and furniture. 

Something—anything in this forsaken room should give her a clue as to what happened to you or where she could find you. 

"Wednesday?"

The voice was quiet, timid even. 

Wednesday doesn't need to turn to know who it is. She grabs one of your books, gripping it with force, willing a vision to happen. When it doesn't, Wednesday tosses it aside. "What is it, Enid?" She asks, her voice flat but frustration laced around her tone. 

"I've got everyone spread out and looking around," Enid updates. "I texted Ajax, and he's got some of his friends out searching too."

Wednesday merely nods tersely. 

"I'm going with Yoko to search, but I just wanted to tell you something before I left," Enid bit her lip. 

Wednesday turns, her eyes boring into Enid's with a dark intensity that her roommate is both used to and still finds unsettling. "Go on."

"I—" Enid sighs lightly. "I didn't want to say this in front of everyone else in case I was wrong, but I'm pretty sure now. I can smell someone else in here. The scent is stale like yours and Fae's, but it's a little stronger, more recent."

"Who else was in here, Enid?" Wednesday demands immediately. While certain people knew you had a studio, no one except Wednesday knew where it was. 

"Um," Enid murmurs, her brows furrowing. "That guy—the one who's always around Fae. Yoko said his father is an alumnus here. Harry?"

"Henry," Wednesday seethes, her eyes flashing and jaw clenched.

"Yes, him!" Enid exclaims. "Yoko and I are going to see if we can find him, but if we can't..." The words drag, but Wednesday already knows the truth of it. 

If they couldn't find Henry, then they'd found their culprit. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Enid: can't find him.

Enid: roommate says he hasn't seen him at all today and said he's been barely in his room. He usually apparently only returns around 1 to 2am lately.

Enid: I'm gonna search around in my wolf form with yoko. She'll text u with my phone with any updates.

Enid: also the black fuzzy blanket you had earlier in our room is gone. Did you take it?

Wednesday doesn't reply and clicks her phone to turn off the screen before putting it back into her pocket. 

1 to 2AM was when the two of you finished your nightly meet-up.

Wednesday definitely didn't move the blanket. Her eyes look back to the blanket in question. She recalls you telling her that Henry was a psychic who could create things. And based on what she's deduced so far, he could materialize his mindscapes into reality, but it seems that anything taken out of his mindscape couldn't last for prolonged hours if he wasn't focusing on it. 

Wednesday has touched everything inside this studio, and nothing has conjured a vision. It leads her to believe that you weren't taken in your studio. She exits and begins to look around. 

The first thing she noticed now that she was not blinded with rage and panic when she first searched for you was one of the tree trunks partially rotten. It was hard to tell with it being so dark, but Wednesday could spot the strange shape of the rot. She walks over to it and finds a single black feather resting on the ground directly underneath. 

Wednesday bends down to grab the quill of the feather, and the live wire shredding at her skin comes forth.

Wednesday sees you walking out of your studio. The day has rewound, and the sun is only starting to set. 

You look happy, with a serene smile and a single feather in your hand. But only after a few steps out do you tilt your head and refuse to take a step further.

Wednesday can hear it from your perspective. The way the wind oddly ruffles the leaves. There's a certain discomfort in her spine. 

"Who's out there?" Wednesday watches you call out and place the hand on the tree trunk. "You can't hide from me in the forest and whatever trap you've set, I can sense it."

There's a moment of tense silence, but you refuse to budge. 

A twig snaps as someone moves behind a tree. 

Henry steps out, and you relax slightly but keep her hand on the trunk.

"Henry," you look confused. "Why are you following me?"

"Well, this is annoying," Henry sighs. "You didn't notice the mindscape of your studio, but now you won't step into the new one I made? I wonder if it's because Wednesday's energy is so intertwined with the studio one I made. You lower your guard down so much when she's around," he hums. 

You look wary. "What do you want?"

"I want you to follow me," Henry smiles, but his eyes are hidden, and you can't determine his full expression. "Quietly."

"What are you talking about?" You frown at him. 

"Your wings," Henry says in a cavalier tone. "I need your wings. So, I need you to come with me to Crackstone's crypt so I can perform the ritual there. I still have some things to prep, but if you go to meet with Wednesday for your date, I'll miss my chance and the sap wont be potent anymore."

As you step back, you narrow your eyes at him, full-on in defensive mode. You're opening your mouth to say something, but Henry pulls out a small blowgun and shoots a needle that lands right into your neck. 

You stagger, hand at your neck to pull out the needle, and you instantly know it's made out of draeconium. You slump to your knees first before falling onto your front completely, groaning. 

Henry approaches with a syringe filled with a cobalt teal liquid. He steals you away, and all that's left is your feather and the rot you placed in the trunk.

Wednesday returns to reality, her hand on the trunk and the grip of your feather in her other hand. She pulls out her phone, typing a quick message to Enid before she takes off.

Wednesday: Meet me at Crackstone's crypt. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The room was dimly lit by candles. Where Crackstone's crypt used to be now stood a giant rectangle stone table. There were inscriptions carved into the table, and Wednesday knew immediately that it was a ritual for your wings.

Wednesday's eyes lay upon your limp form lying in the middle of the table. There was a chained collar around your neck bolted to the table. It was only long enough to likely let you sit up, but no further than that. She can see your body rising and falling with each breath, and there's a sense of relief. She's about to walk to you and wake you up when someone steps out of the shadows.

"I didn't think you'd actually find us."

That lanky, stuttering boy. Except he wasn't stuttering now. Wednesday's uncontrollable rage simmers inside her, but she tempers it. She needs to be rational if she wants to save you. 

Henry's long fringe normally covers his eyes, but tonight, they're pushed out of his face, combed stylishly over his head. It was no wonder that he covered his eyes, Wednesday thought. They would draw too much attention with their pale silvery glassy look. His eyes lacked pupils, but Wednesday was sure they were why he had such powers. 

"Of course, I'd find you," Wednesday sneers at him. "Only a moron would come back to Crackstone's crypt. How unoriginal."

Henry smiles at her, and it's utterly disgusting. "I suppose after your glory stories of last year, I expected you would and that you'd come here stupidly alone."

"I don't need a group to make you wish you were never born," Wednesday's face was stoic. "What exactly can you do? Your little tricks won't work on me now that I know what you can create. It's not real."

Wednesday takes a step closer, but Henry pulls out a knife. The blade was a pale pearl white with ridges, and the handle was made from wood. There was no doubt it was made from draeconium.

"Move any closer, and I'll plunge this right into her," Henry threatens. "I only need her alive, she doesn't need to be unharmed."

There's a moment that Wednesday hesitates, thinking about her chances. She has a knife in her own boot that she could use to cut his throat. But Wednesday eventually decides against it as she doesn't know where he might stab you and if it'll accidentally be fatal. He looks like an idiot.

Wednesday's eyes trail to you. Even though you're unconscious, your wings are slowly appearing from your back, unfurling slowly, and you haven't moved one bit. She eyes the chain in detest and wills you to wake up to no avail.

"I know her wings are injured, but I'm pretty cautious," Henry sighs but doesn't relax his form as he turns to point the knife at her. "I can't risk her potentially flying."

"What did you do to her?" Wednesday demands, her stance tense as she keeps a distance from the boy. "Why isn't she waking up?"

"She won't," Henry shakes her head. "I know she's told you about how draeconium sap can cut her wings out, but they can do so, so much more."

"Makes me wonder why she didn't tell you. Maybe she doesn't trust you as much as you think." Henry smirks at her. "Draeconium petals can be crushed into a powder and mixed into a liquid that will put faeries to deep sleep. It's poisonous and makes their body numb and unable to control their movements."

That would explain why your wings were coming out.

"How did you find out where we were?" Henry narrows his eyes at her. "I hear you're a witch, but I have yet to see you do anything amazing. If anything, you're insufferable."

"Thank you."

"You're always hanging around her, hovering like a goddamn vulture," Henry huffs. 

"Flattery won't get you anywhere," Wednesday raises her brow. 

Henry rolls his eyes. "I thought for sure her fae abilities would catch me following her around. At first, I couldn't get too close without her constantly turning around and nearly catching me. Before you started to get closer to her, I was trying to figure out for weeks where she was going every single day and night."

Henry smiles lightly at her. "The night you followed her after the siren's party, she heard both you and I were following her. But for some reason, she dismissed it and kept going. Your presence has always masked mine perfectly."

Then he smiles haughtily at her, his eyes filled with malice. "Thank you, Wednesday. Because of you, I was able to get closer to Fae without her noticing. And since then, the two of you haven't even noticed you've been in and out of my mindscapes for months."

Wednesday thinks back to the night she first followed you to your studio. You had turned around, and Wednesday thought it was her, but it was probably Henry you'd sensed. But her presence distracted you, and you kept going. 

She thinks back to Parents' Day and how she couldn't find you anywhere. She had gone to her room first to change before looking. Yet, you told her you'd been in her room waiting for half an hour.

Wednesday recalls the time you came to meet her, saying you just came from seeing Henry, but he couldn't conjure anything. But he had, and you just couldn't tell you were already experiencing it.

Wednesday thinks back to the day before the Poe Cup Race and how the three of you had been standing in the hallway. She had heard footsteps, but when she turned around, it was just Henry sitting at one of the arches. Those footsteps were probably from the outside of the mindscape. 

Wednesday grinds her teeth, keeping her mouth shut as she looks around the room for anything she can use. Her phone is in her pocket, and she can tell Enid has likely been sending her messages incessantly by the sporadic vibrations. Wednesday hopes that Enid will call her so she can try to pick it up, keeping it open in her pocket before she starts spouting things that will tell Enid where she is. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"This is weird," Enid mutters. "This is the crypt, isn't it?"

"It should be," Xavier looks around. "Something feels off, though."

Yoko is walking around, her glasses are off, and she looks up to see the moon. "This isn't right. Something feels wrong," Yoko says as she turns to the group. "This moonlight feels synthetic. It's making my eyes hurt."

Bianca looks around. "Henry was a psychic, right? What classes was he taking?"

"Um," Enid thinks of some of the classes they shared, but it was generic. Then she snaps her fingers. "Oh! He was taking psychitech! You know, the class where you can use your psychic powers to build things."

"What if this is one of them?" Bianca suggests as she looks back to the group. "What if this is what he could build? Fake rooms?"

"How the hell are we supposed to get out of this? It looks way too real," Xavier sighs, rubbings his face. 

"Let me try calling Wednesday," Enid pulls out her phone and dials. It picks up after the 4th ring, and Enid almost shouts into the phone when voices are already coming through.

"—couple relents, and an agreement is formed."

"Hold on," Enid says quietly, putting the phone on speakerphone. "I think Wednesday picked up, but she's with Henry right now."

The group listens to him speak, gauging the story with tense interest. 

"That's weird," Enid whispers. "It's quiet, but I can kind of hear an echo now."

"Hey Enid," Eugene whispers as he looks at her. "You put flowers in the Crypt when we came back to school, didn't you?"

Enid screws her brows in thought but nods when she remembers. "I did in the corner...to remember Rowan."

"What flower did you put?"

"I put a potted tristeria in there because they don't require any care. I didn't want to come back to look after it."

Eugene smiles. "I think I know how we can find our way in." He summons a single bee. 

"As long as there's pollen in there, this bee will find it." 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"So?" Wednesday raises her brow at Henry. "Aren't you going to reveal your grand master plan? What your wish will be?"

"And why would I do that?"

"Because cliche villains like you can't help it," Wednesday drawls. "It's why you're all so embarrassing. You think you're so clever and the need to show your cleverness to someone overrides any smart brain cell in your head to be efficient."

Henry looks at her contemptuously, but he looks up through the open sunroof and realizes the full moon isn't in position yet, and he has time. 

"I'm an only child," Henry begins to talk.

"Here we go," Wednesday mutters under her breath, rolling her eyes.

"My father was an alumnus here. We come from a long history of psychics and old money, so coming to this school is really the only choice. My father eventually graduated and married another socialite. You know, the type that's well-bred and genetically compatible to produce another strong psychic to pass on the legacy," Henry continues to point the knife at Wednesday but waves his other hand whimsically to emphasize his point.

"Except," Henry sighs, like the next part will be tragic. "The well-bred socialite turned out to be barren in the womb. Oh, whatever will they do? How will they pass down this enriched legacy? They need another psychic to pass it down to!"

Henry smiles like a bright idea comes to his head. It looks unhinged, which Wednesday would normally find charming, but Henry's face disgusts her to her stomach.

"Of course, the only answer is to find a surrogate. Secretly, of course. It's too shameful to let anyone know. And that means our lovely little couple finds an outcast struggling to make ends meet three states over. She's barely got any psychic abilities, but she's better than nothing, right?"

Wednesday's listening, but her eyes are taking in his stance. He doesn't stand like he has extensive combat abilities like she does, and she's confident in her odds there. 

"The couple promised riches. They promised a better house and food that wasn't stale and enough money to let her live her days out comfortably. But our soft-spoken, poor outcast says she can't agree. She loves children, and if she were to have a child, she'd want to be able to see her visit that child. The couple relents, and an agreement is formed."

Wednesday stares at the room around her without moving her eyes. This was real, wasn't it? There were limitations to Henry's powers. How many rooms could be kept active, how long he could keep them engaged, and the objects inside the mindscape can't stay outside for prolonged periods.

Henry must've brought you here because he couldn't mimic the magic residue that surrounded this crypt. 

That meant the surrounding area of his crypt would be made up of mindscapes so no one could find them.

Wednesday wonders if Enid and the rest of the group were currently lost in one of his mindscapes, and they were closer than she thought.

"Everything seems fine at first," Henry's voice interrupts her thoughts. "The pregnancy goes without a hitch, but on the day of her birth, there were complications, and she passed away soon after. Still, she gives birth to a lovely, healthy son. All should be well, right?" The way Henry says it is filled with sarcasm.

"But what should be filled with fulfilling days is just scorn. The well-bred socialite can't love a son who isn't really hers. His eyes are a constant reminder that he's someone else's child. She doesn't want to hold him, touch him, or even look at him if she doesn't have to. The father has great expectations, but when his son can't achieve them, he's distant. They don't tell him the origins of his birth, so the child is left to believe his parents just can't love a disappointment like him."

Great, Wednesday thinks, another idiot with mommy issues. "That was entirely uninteresting and cliche," Wednesday stifles a yawn, annoying Henry.

"Yes, but I'm not quite done."

"Hurry on then. I'm considering dying might be better than listening to the rest of this."

Henry sneers at her but continues on. "The child thinks he's just unloveable. That it's just the way he is, and that's why his parents cannot love him. Until one day, he's rummaging through his father's study in hopes that there's something there that could help him strengthen his psychic abilities."

"Let me guess," Wednesday drones. "You found a letter from either the doctor or the coroner about the day your birth mother had you but your father had her killed right after."

Henry looks surprised.

"Amateurs," Wednesday huffs. 

"Yes," Henry looks miffed that his plot twist was ruined. "The doctor injected nightshade into her IV, and because she was poor, her death was never looked into after the report the doctor gave."

"So?" Wednesday raises her brow. "What are you going to wish for? Your birth mother to come back so someone might love you as pathetic as you are?"

"I'm going to rewind time," Henry reveals, scowling at her. "I'm going to go back in time and kill Tyler before he can awaken as a hyde."

"Why?" Wednesday demands. "That mongrel is already behind bars and rotting. Even if you rewind back time, he's not going to awaken his hyde for you. He has severe mommy issues just like you do, and you don't seem like the motherly type."

"Not to kill my parents," Henry snaps. "For me, for my life at Nevermore. Everything was perfect before Tyler came along."

Wednesday furrows her brows. "What the hell do you—"

"If Tyler didn't come along, Miss Thornhill would still be here and she'd be focusing on me!" Henry shouts, gripping his knife tightly until veins become visible on his arms. 

Wednesday's eyes scrunch up in disgust, her head bobbing back with disbelief. "You're doing all this for Thornhill?" Her tone hides none of the contempt she feels. "Are you an absolute imbecile? Thornhill was using Tyler because she hates outcasts. She hates you too, you stupid—"

"That's not true!" Henry thunderously shouts at her. "Tyler and I were different. She cared about us but she chose Tyler because he was stronger! I'm different now! I can help her achieve her goals and we will be happy after."

"No," Wednesday curls her lip at Henry. "You were her puppet until she decided you were useless and Tyler could help her kill everyone. You do realize that was her goal, right? You'd only be kept alive until she decides she doesn't need you in her normie world."

"Shut up!" Henry's red in the face as he roars at her, stomping toward her. 

Wednesday hardens her stance, bending her knees slightly to keep her grounded. She blocks Henry's attempt to stab her before using her other elbow to dig into his sternum. It makes Henry stagger back, coughing, and grip his chest, but he hangs onto the knife. He recovers quickly before he moves back towards her, swinging the knife back and forth.

Wednesday dodges, but Henry extends his arm, and it nicks her cheek. The cut stings, and Henry grunts as he tackles her to the ground. He meant to stab her in the neck, but Wednesday moved her arm just in time and stabbed the outside of her bicep. Wednesday grunts in pain when he rips it out. 

His height difference gives him the advantage, and they're rolling on the ground. The force of the tackle made the back of Wednesday's head slam into the ground. She can feel a warm liquid dripping down the back of her head, but she doesn't let it stop her. 

Wednesday knees him in his groin, which makes him drop the knife, roll onto his back, and hold the tender area with a groan. Wednesday quickly kicks the knife away and gets on top of him, punching him in the face before she wraps her fingers around his neck and squeezes.

Henry is struggling and wheezing, his hand wrapped around his wrist, attempting to rip them away, but Wednesday's grip is firm. She can feel his Adam's apple giving, and she squeezes tighter. 

Henry flails around, winding the back of his hand, and punches Wednesday in her temple. He wore a ring that dug into Wednesday's skin and ripped it open. 

The force and cut of it make Wednesday dizzy, and she's forced to let go as she staggers to the side. Henry is gasping for air but immediately scrambles for the knife. He has a cut on his brow from where Wednesday punched him, and his neck was wrung red. 

"I'm going to fucking kill you!" Henry shouts, enraged as he grabs the knife. 

Wednesday is still lying on the floor, holding herself up on her elbow as she is holding her temple while her own blood coats her hand. 

The noise is deafening, and it makes you breathe deeply. 

You begin to stir, your fingers twitching. The sound of your leg moving grates against the stone table.

Henry and Wednesday snap their heads in your direction. 

"How did you..." Henry starts to say.

"Don't...touch her..." your voice is raspy and lethargic as you slowly sit up.

"Don't move," Henry threatens, grabbing the collar of Wednesday's shirt and pressing the knife against her throat. "Don't move, or I'll slice her neck open!"

Wednesday is staring at you. It's hard to see your eyes with your head tilted down and your palm pressed against your eye.

"How the hell did you wake up?' Henry seethes. "The draeconium should've kept you unconscious even when I started to cut your wings. You shouldn't have fought against it. This would've made all of it less painful."

The chain rattles as you move your palm away and look up at them. Wednesday could feel Henry tense, and she could understand why. 

Your eyes have transformed, and they were completely pitch black—even your sclera. You looked more like a demon than a faerie, and Wednesday felt her heart skip. She's entranced, eyes unable to look away. 

"I'm a high lord's daughter," your voice rumbles quietly, your eyes narrowing on them. "I'm a night faerie. You think I wouldn't be trained to have resistance against draeconium poison?"

Henry's jaw clenches, and Wednesday can't tell for certain, but she's pretty sure your eyes drop to look at the knife against her neck. 

"Let her go," you demand. "Let us both go, and the worst that will happen to you is an expulsion."

Your voice isn't threatening in any way. It's almost calm, and Wednesday almost scoffs that you'd think this psychopath would listen to you. 

"Expulsion?" Henry laughs. "The second Weems learns what I did, there's no way I won't be going to jail. My parents might just execute me out of shame."

"You could probably use your last meal to request to see your beloved Thornhill first, if she even agrees to see you," Wednesday mutters. The knife presses further into her neck threateningly. A thin slit of blood drips down from Wednesday's neck.

"There's only one way I'll let her go," Henry looks at you warily, trying to bargain. "Your wings for her life. I'll tie Wednesday up as leverage but the second I have your wings, I'll let her go."

"Only a moron would believe that," Wednesday drones, her face impassive. 

"She can't wait that long," you argue back, ignoring Wednesday. "She's losing blood in her arm."

"It's not fatal," Henry shakes his head. "I'll let you seal the wound up, but if I don't have your wings before the moon moves from the highest point in the sky, I will kill her."

"Don't bargain with me," you warn him, but your delicate tone doesn't scare Henry at all. 

Henry glares at you. He's losing his patience as he presses the knife further into Wednesday's neck, and she can feel it cut into her skin more. "There's nothing you can do but accept my bargain. You're lucky I'm even offering to let Wednesday go. I could kill her right now and still take your wings—"

Your eyes, filled with nothing but darkness, flash dangerously at him.

"Shit!" Henry suddenly curses, tenses up, and Wednesday sees his eyes cloud over. She knows that he can no longer see the way he's frantically looking around. She moves her head back, so the knife is no longer pressed against her neck. 

You suddenly spread your wings to their full span. Your wounds rip open, and blood rapidly rushes down, soaking your fingers and staining the stone table. They fill in the carved inscriptions but pour over onto the ground. 

You flap your wings, rising. The chain initially resists, but with another flap, it breaks like a measly string. 

You're hovering in the air, held up by your wings. Blood coats your shirt and cheek when your wings flap, splattering blood everywhere. 

It's terrifying how much blood you're losing, but Wednesday can't help the hitch of breath in the back of her throat. 

You look like a fallen angel. Like you fought tooth and nail before heaven cast you out.

You force your wings to their full wingspan and flap them with a reckoning force. The wind you create is so powerful that it forces Henry to fly back. He collides with a pillar, his body arches from the impact, and he gasps painfully. He drops the knife and falls onto his knees, coughing. 

You swoop down towards him, standing in front of him as you grab the collar of his shirt with both your hands, pressing him against the pillar to hold him up as he can't even stand. Henry is sure you've broken his ribs. 

"Lucky?" You snarled before seething at him. "Did you think because I smiled at you that I was kind? That I wasn't capable of hurting you?"

Wednesday looks down at her hand, covered in blood and soaked feathers that fell when you flew over her. The air is hard to breathe after your wings disrupt the air, almost like she's choking. 

This was what her vision meant. 

How utterly useless to figure it out now. 

All Wednesday can smell is blood, all she can hear is your breathing and the sound of your wings. Your voice—raspy and rumbling—is all she can hear. Even when she closes her eyes, the image of you in the air with your bloodied wings is imprinted—burned into the back of her eyes. 

Everything about you has taken Wednesday's senses hostage.

"Say, Henry," you say, and Wednesday feels a chill down her spine in the calm and light way you say it. "What do you think would happen to you if I dropped you from 1500ft? Do you think you'd die, or do you think you'd survive and just become paralyzed?"

"Please—" Henry whimpers, begging. He screws his eyes shut despite the fact that even if they're open, he can't see anything but pitch black. It's just instinct at this point.

"Let's see who's really lucky," you tell him, pulling him from the pillar, your wings fluttering. "You or me."

You're about to take off when you feel your shirt being tugged at. 

You look over to find Wednesday standing, parts of her temple crusted with dry blood while fresh blood pouring down a line. 

Wednesday is looking at you sternly, her brows furrowed deeply while hiding something else she is feeling—desperation. 

"Don't fly," she demands you, her voice serious. "If you fly, you'll lose too much blood and you won't make it."

You merely stare at her, and Wednesday wonders if you can even hear her.

"I'm okay," Wednesday tells you quietly instead. "We both are." She turns her head to look at Henry, who looks like he has passed out from the pain in his ribs. "He's done. He can't do anything anymore."

The words seem to reach you as you loosen your grip, dropping Henry, and he falls to the floor on his side. 

You turn to Wednesday, blood dripping drop after drop from the end of your wings. 

"You've ruined your wings again," Wednesday scowls at you, and your lip twitches. "You fool, they will never heal at this rate."

"They will," your voice was raspy. "I just need intensive care for the rest of the year."

Wednesday keeps her scowl at you, and you smile weakly at her.

"Thank you for coming to find me," you tell her, your voice lulls Wednesday.

"Of course, you were late," Wednesday relaxes her face as she looks over your wings. As much as she hated to admit it, this was out of her hands, and they needed the nurse.

You smile sadly, and it looks strange with someone whose eyes are completely black. "I missed our date."

"Stop with the look," Wednesday orders. "It's unnecessary. I can always plan it again."

You look happy, then. But you also look extremely tired. The black from your eyes fades and after a couple long blinks, they become normal again. 

"Thank you for saving me," Wednesday eventually says, her features looking soft as they gaze at you. "Even if you were stupid enough to ruin your wings."

You chuckle, but it's weak. You lift your hand, almost hesitating to touch Wednesday's face since your hands are coated in blood. But Wednesday leans into it, letting it smear her cheek.

You're so warm, and it's comforting to Wednesday. It was a sign you were alive. 

Making sure you paid for making her feel wretched over you would have to wait because all Wednesday can do right now is be thankful you're alive.

You lean towards her face, your lips hovering over hers. 

"Don't die," Wednesday quietly commands. "Ever. Especially without me."

You smile, and it brushes against Wednesday's lip. 

"Are you threatening me with a good time again?" you murmur. "But okay, only because you have such a way with words."

You're about to close the distance, but you slump against her instead, passing out.

Wednesday holds you securely, her eyes widening. 

Suddenly, Enid burst through the room. Well, first, it was a bee, and then Enid.

"We're here! I'm going to wolf out and beat that motherfuc—oh, you guys already won."

The group follows quickly behind Enid, taking in the gory scene.

"Jesus Christ, Addams," Bianca scowls at her. "Did you make Fae do all the work? What happened to the Addams that held someone hostage to torture them?"

Wednesday doesn't respond to the comment, merely passing you to Enid and Yoko to carry. "Take her to the nurse quickly."

"It'll be faster if I carry her in my wolf form," Enid says. "Let's take her outside first."

"I can do some first aid to hold her over," Bianca follows. "Let's get her near the river; I can use the river water."

They all take a moment to stare at you. 

"I didn't know she had wings," Yoko comments. "They're beautiful."

"If rumors of her wings go around, I will—"

"Obviously, we're not going to talk about them, Addams," Bianca rolls her eyes. "You don't need to threaten our lives."

Wednesday shrugs. 

"Let's just get going," Enid starts to move. Everyone begins to follow except Xavier. He stays and lingers around Wednesday.

"You need medical attention too," Xavier glosses over her, specifically the wound in her arm. 

"I'm fine," Wednesday brushes him off, turning around to stare at Henry on the ground. "You should go help them."

Xavier follows Wednesday's gaze. "I can help you carry him back."

"I'm not bringing him back," Wednesday monotones.

Xavier sighs. "Wednesday, I know what he did was horrible and he should die for it, but you can't kill him. Weems might—"

"I'm not going to kill him either," Wednesday interrupts. "You should leave."

"Wednesday—"

"Now, Xavier," she snaps.

Xavier hesitates for a moment before letting out a frustrated sigh and turning to leave the room.

Something scuddles into the room, and Wednesday turns to see Thing.

"There you are, Thing," Wednesday says. "Let's see if your scalpel skills improved."

PART 10

[dean-a-mean-tae]

Updated "Western" Friends | Stray Kids Additional Member AU

Nicholas is still friends with some of the other people from the 1st western friends post, but he's also made new ones.

WARNINGS: Let me be delusional. Mention of Cardi and Nicki scandal. "Fans" being weird about Nicholas and his friendship with women. I don't know if there's anything else.

Nicholas Ross Master List

✧*̥˚𝘽𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙚 𝙀𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙝*̥˚✧

Menaces To Society

Nicholas was a fan of Billie since Ocean Eyes. He eventually reached out to congratulate her on making it big, and give her a heads up on what to expectation versus reality on the spot light. He told her to reach out if she ever needed anything or just to talk to him.

Surprisingly, Billie reached out very randomly and just needed to rant. She claimed it felt "better to rant to someone not in the situation because then they wouldn't be biased." She was right. Nicholas was able to give her multiple perspectives on what she was going through while coming to a conclusion on how she felt. They've been friends since.

Nicholas kind of adopted Billie and now they have a great friendship. Unfortunately, there are some people who think it's creepy for Nicholas to be friends with Billie and continuously express that. It doesn't stop Billie from posting about Nicholas being a dumbass. "It's moments like this where I question your logic. Cause what made you think that was a good idea?"

Bonus: Billie is aware of some of Nicholas's trauma thanks to the few videos he's done on them, but she wants, and is waiting, for him to tell her himself.

✧*̥˚𝘾𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙞 𝘽*̥˚✧

I'm Not Fighting You, But She'll Do It For Me

Unsurprisingly, Megan is the one who introduced them to each other. She wanted to know if the three of them could do a collab. Unfortunately, JYP didn't approve of this so the idea was scrapped. But that didn't stop Cardi and Nicholas from keeping in touch.

The feud between Cardi and Nicki started the distance between Nicholas and Nicki. Nicholas knows the Barbz, or Nicki's fans, started the feud but it irritated him that the two continued it. He, of course, never spoke on it no matter how many times people asked about it. Nicholas's continuous stance of staying indifferent in the situation, even though he knew Nicki before Cardi, is also what pulled her further into nurturing him.

Shortly, after Nicholas and Nicki had a fall out, Cardi stepped in to help take care of him. When Nicki stopped checking in, Cardi checked in. When Nicki stopped responding, Cardi would respond and constantly reach out. "Listen, you ain't gotta worry about her no more, aight? Ima look out for you."

Bonus: Cardi made sure she told Nicholas about her pregnancy with Wave (her son) before he found about the news. She said it made it more special to hear it from the momma rather than some news person.

✧*̥˚𝘾𝙤𝙘𝙤 𝙅𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙨*̥˚✧

The Funniest and The Hottest

Nicholas is known by American Stays to say Coco Jones quotes. There are so many compilations of him quoting other famous people and eventually it got onto Coco's feed. She tweeted a clip of him quoting her word for word with a goofy look and all.

Their friendship isn't really known because they don't interact in public. With them living on different sides of the planet, the time zones, and the lack of interaction on the internet, it's not a easy thing to point out.

They're such bad influences on each other. Stay already knew Nicholas was a goofball, but when he met Coco and they did video collabs together with Terrell, everyone realized Nicholas was a idiot who needed to be protected at all costs.

Bonus: They communicate through memes and TikTok, which is amusing to the boys. Their whole message feed thingy is filled with pictures and videos.

✧*̥˚𝙇𝙖𝙮 𝘽𝙖𝙣𝙠𝙨*̥˚✧

Tall & Lean and Short & Slim

Ironically, Nicholas learned about her through TikTok because of her song Ick. He played the song in front of his father, and the man was disgusted that this was the music his son was listening to. For the whole time he visited his family, Nicholas had the song on repeat.

Nicholas sent Lay a DM to thank her for helping him piss her parents off. After explaining what happened after a very confused response from her, she found the situation hilarious and posted about it while making sure to keep his identity hidden.

If you thought people went crazy about Nicholas and Billie, imagine their reaction to his friendship with a 19 year old. After this Nicholas just kind of adopted Lay and added her to his list of adoptive children. It only consists of Billie and Lay, but it's the fact he has "kids" that leaves him tickled.

They're is a time difference so they kind of just spam each other and wait for the other to reply. Usually, Nicholas is up late so it means he can respond when Lay is getting up in the morning.

Bonus: Nicholas got Lay to help prank Chan by using a voice effect that made her sound like a kid. It went something along the lines of him telling Chan he needed help keeping his kid hidden with Chan being confused on when Nicholas had time to actually have a child without him knowing.

Nicholas Ross Master List | ©️DEANAMEANTAE2024

Tag List: @bada-lee-ily @jinnie-ret @hwxnghyynjin @foxilsdenn @rensahazard @mynameisnotlaura @lucianidealz @ziipzeepzop-eez @ilovejeongin007 @michelle4eve @leezanetheofficial @spookzyclown

You can be added by asking in the replies, sending me a message, or doing an ask thingy.

[kerink]

PMG's documentary on ZA/UM really illuminated just how complex the issue really is. the entire situation has been framed as one thing when really it's two: 1. were kurvitz, rostov, and hindpere wrongfully terminated and 2. did kompus illegally acquire the majority share of ZA/UM.

i think that, in order for the narrative to not get muddled and emotions to not get too high, fans must keep these two issues separate. it doesn't matter if you personally like kurvitz, rostov, or hindpere or what you think about their professionalism, those beliefs shouldn't play into what you think about kompus' acquisition. and regardless of what the evidence and/or outcome is on one, that should have nothing to do with the other.

ultimately the issue of kurvitz, rostov, and hindpere's firing comes down to whether or not the three of them were made aware of the complaints about their behavior and contributions to the project and whether or not they were given ample opportunity to address these grievances. so far ZA/UM has only been able to produce a single piece of evidence in writing that kurvitz was aware of concerns regarding his professionalism. and while this evidence strongly implies that previous conversations about his behavior had been discussed, no other documentation has been put forward. the burden of proving just termination is on ZA/UM, and if kurvitz, rostov, and hindpere contest the termination we have to believe them.

i personally am unsure what to think about the issue. while i believe kurvitz, rostov, and hindpere all had varying levels of personal and professional discord within ZA/UM, i have yet to see any proof that their conduct was addressed in a way that is in line with professional and industry standards. whether i think the complaints against them are valid or not doesn't matter. what matters is whether or not the three were made formally aware of the complaints and were given opportunity to address them and change their behavior. i haven't seen proof this happened, which in my mind is in-line with the accusation of wrongful termination.

and we also have to keep in mind that this proof may in fact exist, but due to this being an on-going legal battle ZA/UM may not be able to showcase this evidence in a public format. therefore, we have to curb our opinion until after the case is concluded and all the evidence has been examined.

with regard to kompus' acquisition of majority share at ZA/UM we have the same issue: kompus has the burden of proof. if kurvitz and rostov are claiming they were unaware of or misunderstood the nature of kompus' actions, it's up to him to prove that to be untrue. since kompus claims the conversation was had verbally with nothing in writing being exchanged, we're now in a he-said-she-said situation, and while kurvitz and rostov have each other to support their side, no one has been willing to comment publicly in kompus' defense (that i've seen or as i understood PMG's coverage).

what i find most interesting about this whole thing is that in the slack message sent to kurvitz about his behavior, havel states that they're trying to create a more professional culture at ZA/UM. the lack of paper trail on any of the issues i've discussed here makes me doubt that. this isn't a point i just think the hypocrisy is really interesting.

ultimately where i stand right now is that i think kompus' actions are extremely suspect and that i doubt his story. he lacks proof that kurvitz and rostov agreed to this, and the way in which kurvitz and rostov were meant to benefit from the arrangement doesn't make sense. the entire thing doesn't pass a common sense check, to me.

all in all, though, i think this documentary is a must-watch for DE fans because it grounds us in the reality of how complex this is, not just for those directly involved but those indirectly involved as well. PMG made a fantastic point when they ended with a plea that the fans stop hurting the current ZA/UM employees because they want to get back at kompus and others responsible for kurvitz, rostov, and hindpere's situation. we need to recognize that the people who work there now just want to make games that carry meaningful messages and they want to connect deeply with their audience. they're all artists caught up in business and industry and we, as fellow artists, need to stand in solidarity with them. and we need to make sure we don't jump to any conclusions until the evidence has been brought to light

[heartbeatbookclub]

I think it's sorta weird how the Protagonist (MC, Y/N, Stinky, whatever you wanna call him) is treated within the context of DDLC's meta.

That sentence came out weird. What I mean is that on terms of DDLC playing with the 4th wall (in other words, on terms of its actual existence as a visual novel in universe), the nature of the Protagonist's...well, entire existence, is up in the air.

Dan Salvato literally stated that he doesn't actually see him as a character in the same way as the girls. He's a "blank slate that says whatever is convenient." In a different statement, he's described as the "nameless, faceless self-insert character that you find so commonly in romance games", which I think is a good way of putting it. It's a good way of justifying why he kinda...sucks, because he's meant to be a typical VN protagonist. He's shallow, and responds with little more than what makes sense in context, because he doesn't have much character on his own, which is what makes him pretty bad at dealing with delicate issues like with Sayori.

In DDLC+ (spoilers, I guess?), it's a little bit vague about it, but in one of the mails, it states that Monika has literally "manufactured" a new character to "force interaction between her and the user". This character is heavily implied to be the Protagonist of the main DDLC visual novel that we know, and he is, as stated, noticeably absent from the Side Stories, because Monika didn't actively create him to be there.

Except...he isn't.

He doesn't physically appear, but in Trust, though he's obviously not mentioned by name, it's implied that he does exist, because when asked to act like a "normal person" responding to the Literature Club, she imitates a friend of hers who says "Literature is stuuupid. I'm joining the Anime Club."

...Remind you of a certain someone?

I feel like I'm overexplaining this, but my point is, it suggests that the Protagonist as a character isn't just something Monika invented out of thin air, or at least he's heavily implied not to be.

I think there's a larger conversation on the vague way the game itself treats the world outside of what is defined within the limited scope of Doki Doki Literature Club. Fans have filled gaps of different characters and events, but it's important to acknowledge that they're gaps filled by fanon, not canon. I think those gaps are left very intentionally empty, mostly to play into the conceit of the world, being that literally nothing actually exists outside of its boundaries, because it's a visual novel. It's a limited, constricted reality, where things are implied to exist outside it, but they actually don't.

In other words, Monika did apparently generate all that makes up the Protagonist as a character and vehicle for the player in the main game, based off the limited concept implied by their interaction in the Side Story. Or, rather, probably by something else, since the side stories are inherently a "Control Simulation" where Monika doesn't have any sense of meta awareness. It's a prequel set before the main story, but...well, if you really think about it, it's implied to tie into the main story, but they don't directly link up, do they? If it's not explicitly shown on screen in the main line Doki Doki Literature Club, did it even happen?

Either way, the Protagonist is a character independent of Monika's creation, he's just given absolutely nothing, and technically doesn't even exist outside of what's implied of him. Technically, the character Monika creates as a vehicle for the Player has no real relation to him, outside of being Sayori's friend and wanting to join the Anime Club. Or, depending on your view, he does! Since he's the literal manifestation of that character concept where it didn't exist previously, it's fair to say that he is that character given life!

I don't know, I think it's just kinda fascinating in context. I don't really like a lot of the extra lore surrounding the whole thing in +, but there are plenty of interesting things like this which have been given just enough flavor to be interesting.

Obviously I don't think this means the Protagonist is a complete non-character and any & all fan interpretations of him should be defenestrated (quite the opposite actually, reality can be whatever you want, I have a few concepts with him floating around my head which I find fun to play with), but I think this sort of thing is probably important to keep in mind on terms of actual investigations of canon.

[centrally-unplanned]

Rewatching Buffy is also a fun exercise in context-aware consumption. As a show I like I have read a number of production interviews & such about it, and its not a show aiming for hyper-realism; I am rarely fully suspending disbelief when watching. I know this is media, made by actors & crew members.

It is something that makes it very hard to get "mad" about things that fans back in the day were mad at, that almost always ignored the reality of said production. Tara being killed in Season 6 and never returning is a classic example - extremely controversial decision, death-threats-faxed-to-the-team fan response drama. The Big Bad of season 7 has the ability to wear the form of anyone dead, and in one episode tries to convince Willow to stop using magic in the form of some other dead girl speaking for Tara, but not Tara herself.

So why is Tara not-even-a-ghost? Because actress Amber Benson really wanted to leave the show. She had big conflicts with someone on the production - she has never confirmed, but all odds point to Alyson Hannigan (Willow) - and mid-production in Season 6 they came to a head, and also she had an opportunity to do some directing for a shoot in England, so she asked Joss to write her out. Dying fit the themes, and maybe coming back for an episode was on the table but like it didn't really work out. That is TV! Obviously it would have been better for the ghost episode if that was Tara, but its hard to be mad at it, they did what they could.

Season 7 has a bunch of things like this too - Caleb certainly shows up pretty late in the game! So does Faith! Couldn't they be there for more episodes? Not with the contract as a non-regular Nathan Fillion & Eliza Dusku had. Who is main-billing w/ residuals, who is recurring, who is a "special guest", these are important questions for TV productions, and the ideal script doesn't care. So Caleb's arc in Season 7 is rushed, for sure. Its a criticism, I do think they should have written *around* that reality better. But its way to easier to look past that and see the good stuff when you know the constraints.

[streamsofstardust]

i debated saying anything about this bc i wanted the focus to be on how incredible josh is and how much we all love him, but since other people have made posts (and bc the subject of them has continued to be a problem) i figured i might as well.

long ass post below the cut bc i don't wanna clog people's feed

hannah has spent the better part of 6 months trying to salvage her reputation after tweetgate. she's been posting bogus, empty apologies and trying to prove that she's a good person, a person who has changed over the years and isn't close to being the same as the one who made those horrendous tweets.

yet every time someone calls her out, she continues to show everyone she hasn't changed at all.

hannah's career is not josh's. her personal life is not josh's. their connection is simply the fact that she's with sam. she's benefitted from the relationship since it started, regardless of how little her status as a "well known" musician has increased. she's gotten plenty of opportunities that she likely wouldn't have, had it not been for her relationship with sam. this isn't me saying she's using him, none of us could ever know that for certain, but it's certainly an interesting pairing and she definitely doesn't do herself any favors to get us to think otherwise.

i understand there is no obligation on hannah's part to join the masses in public support of josh coming out. I'm not going to say she needed to like the post, comment on it, put it in her story, etc. what i will say is that her initial silence about it on social media is extremely telling.

she tweeted about legislation when it came to gun control. granted she talked about how she wanted her music to make a change (it's not going to sweetheart), and made most of the conversation about her, but she brought up the importance of standing up for what you believe is right in the state you live in. and for anyone not aware (though i assume pretty much everyone knows) she lives in tennessee.

because of that, and given her adamance that she's not a bigot, one would think she'd take josh's post as a chance to also talk about the importance of fighting for LGBTQ+ rights in the state she lives in. even if she didn't live there, you'd think she'd do it to support her boyfriend's older brother. and for as much as she talks about how much she loves them all, it sure doesn't seem like she gives as shit about any of them other than sam, and yeah that's likely because he's the one directly helping her career.

she didn't though.

she didn't do anything to show her support for josh.

and it's not that she wasn't active on social media because she spent the day posting on everything about her new music. she follows josh, she would've seen the post. I'm sure there were plenty of conversations over text or call or facetime or whatever that she could've been part of. I'm fully aware that anything could've happened in private. but when you spend so much time trying to publicly convince people that you're a good, caring, thoughtful, loving, and accepting person, how could you not show public support when it comes to this?

of course she has to go and make it even worse though, because that's literally the only thing she knows how to do.

i don't necessarily agree with people commenting on her posts about josh (though i agree, yesterday was josh's day. idc argue with your mother) but the issue was her response to those comments.

you want to talk about your music? go ahead, lord knows you're never gonna shut up about your subpar shit. but this:

was fucking disgusting.

that's your boyfriend's fucking brother who, after spending nearly a decade hiding a massive part of himself and his relationship, decided to come out publicly where millions of people would see it all at once. where he could've been met with judgment from fans, non-fans, peers, fellow musicians, etc. I'm not saying he assumed the worst, there's no way any of us would know if he did, it's just the reality of the political climate. he did something that is fucking terrifying for anyone on a considerably smaller scale. even when you know you'll have support, coming out can be scary. hell i was drunk when i accidentally came out to my dad and even though i knew he'd still love me, i was fucking scared.

josh risked so much by making that post, regardless of the love and support he was guaranteed to have from his family, his friends, and presumably most of his fans. i can't imagine it was the easiest decision for him to make, but the fact that he did it is incredible and praiseworthy.

anyone with a brain and a lick of common sense knows this. anyone in the LGBTQ+ community is more than aware of this. anyone who cares about those around them and understands how awful the political climate is when it comes to the LGBTQ+ community, is fully aware of this.

hannah should be fully aware, and though it often seems otherwise, she has a brain, so i know she knows this.

it's the bare fucking minimum to publicly support josh. the bare. fucking. minimum.

but once again, she had to make sure she was getting the attention she so badly craves. and of course, her responses to gvf fans were just as gross and immature as they always are.

as i've said several times before, hannah wicklund is not a good person. she clearly never has been and never will be. she has this delusion that she's changed and grown and matured but every single time she makes a post, she proves that none of that is true.

she's single-handedly digging her own grave and i look forward to the day where she's no longer connected to the band and our community.

[keruimi]

His Definition of Love

Pairing: Akaashi Keiji x reader

Warning: Angst, Trauma, Comfort

Note: Oh how I badly want to hear from someone, the words he uttered. I'm not really a big fan of him but damn, this oneshot made me start liking him. Hope you all enjoy it!

_____________________________

When I was young, the person I loved the most was my father.

A person I would choose over others. A man who was the reason I grew up in a comfortable and loving family in my childhood days.

A father and a husband that anyone would love to have. I vowed to myself that time that I would love the same man that resembles my dad.

Until across the bridge where he used to take me, I found him embracing another woman than my mom.

It was one of the memories that always reminded me that everyone has their own bad sides.

No matter how kind, nice, and loveable my father was, he still broke my mom's heart leading to the downfall of our family who was once envied by many.

I was so young back then that I disregard my mother's heartbreak and keep siding with my father no matter how she keeps begging me to choose her.

I hate how I used to think back then.

Just because I don't want to lose my father.

"Little one" my father called me as the sobs of my mother is the only thing I heard in the house as I tightly clutch on my father's body.

I keep crying especially when he successfully removes me from his legs before he crouches in front of me.

"Little one, please stay with your mom. I don't want to influence your pure heart, dear"

The tears on my father's eyes made it clear to me that day that he was not pure as I saw him.

That he really did something I thought he would never do.

My father suffered because of the complicated emotions he has. He loved my mother but he also liked other women.

So does that make me want to hate him?

Yes, so badly. But I also knew that he is aware of his mistakes, aware of how those complicated feelings that ruined the family he once built.

I caught up with it.

But for the best, he made me stay with my mom in fear that I would take after his footsteps if I did live with him.

He is the man who wanted the best for me.

I saw my father in such a way that I blamed my mother for leaving him just because of one mistake, forgetting all the good things that my father did for us.

But that was the first time that my father made me open my eyes to the reality of the world.

He was guilty, not innocent. He is the cause of our heartbreak, not the victim.

He explained to me that even a nice man like him can become a man I wouldn't want to love me.

He is unfaithful, one of the unforgivable sins that destroys one's marriage.

He was not always perfect, he also fell into temptations.

In other words, he doesn't want me to turn into someone like him.

So I decided to stay with my mom to become someone she can lean on. But I knew how my presence broke my mother, because I greatly reminded her of my father.

I finally understand our family's situation and my father's character the moment I step into junior high.

I can't stay liking one man.

When I like someone, I would start to like someone who I deemed better than him.

And it was scary. That I would be the reason for someone's heartbreak.

I finally understand how complicated feelings are. And my father never found a solution to that problem.

He really loves my mom. But if he did love her, then why would he like another woman?

Yet I can't bear to hate my own dad. Because I went through the same obstacles.

If ever I ask my mom for advice, I know that she will remember my dad again so I didn't bother anymore.

Seeing my mother's situation, I told myself that I would just stay alone for my entire life.

Before history repeats itself.

I rejected many men because I was hell-bent on being single.

I am fine with admiring different men every time I deemed them as someone great.

And that would be no different on Akaashi Keiji.

A calm and composed setter who always seems to control their Ace's movement.

He knows the country's Top 5 Ace like the back of his hand.

He is a gentleman, a one of a kind man.

And a person who reminded me of my father's good side.

I groaned in frustration as I slid down on the wall I lean on after watching Fukurodani's match. The frustration I felt when I couldn't get my eyes off of him.

Deep down, I want a family where I would run to. But if I selfishly did that, it would turn into ruins as I started showing signs of my non existing loyalty.

Like a curse that the memory engraved to my mind.

That's why my secret admiration for him surprisingly lasted for a year.

Even if we just passed by each other, the giddy feeling on my chest never left as I always find my eyes looking for him.

He is really perfect.

That even if I started liking one man, whether I catch a glimpse of him, that admiration would disappear and my heart would be set to him again.

Like a damn cycle.

But with my feelings this way, I don't want to take a risk.

Until we met on the school's rooftop.

The time he first came up to me just to lend his handkerchief when he noticed how my tears seemed to escape from my eyes.

A man who showed his concern to a complete stranger.

How can I be loyal?

That is always the question that keeps repeating on my head like a broken record.

I want to be happy, to be in a relationship, to give the love I keep to myself.

I wanted to express my emotions, but I am afraid that it will be poisonous.

That's the reason why he found me on the rooftop, crying. Because I can't take it anymore.

Those fear of betrayal that I might let others experience, keep holding me back from freely loving someone.

That love that I want to give to the man standing in front of me.

"I'm here"

He uttered the same words that my father used to tell me whether I keep crying.

"I'm scared" An emotion that showed the worst part of me.

"That I can't keep loving the same man forever"

It was the greatest fear that my father felt. And when he tried to go against it, that nightmare happened and he lost everything.

Including my trust in him.

Now I'm having a hard time with the same challenge.

Whether I need to go against it or just keep avoiding it.

"What do you mean by that?" There was not a hint of judging from his voice. He simply asked me to open up for him.

And I desperately clutch to that chance of letting out everything.

He unknowingly became someone I can open up with, without the fear of judgement and simply understanding one's problem.

"I can't stay liking one man"

"And?" He stated that made me finally look at him as we waited for my next words.

"And it scares me..." I trailed off, hesitating on my words until a small smile lifted from his lips.

"That's normal" I felt like my world stopped when he let out those words.

"Infatuation, puppy love, or having a crush is normal in our age. It's not a permanent attachment that you need to get scared of." He continued as he decided to sit in front of me so it was easier to continue the conversation.

"Like and love are two different concepts but has an oddly similar meaning" he continues as he moves two of his fingers.

"Liking is when you feel happy with them, watching them, admiring them but it was simply a temporary emotion that is a shallow version of the word Love. Liking someone because he has something you love is its definition"

"But if we're talking about love, it's a more powerful emotion like hate. Love is when you stay with the person you like no matter how much the world wants you to separate. Loving someone is when you accept their flaws and shortcomings. When you understand how they act. When you are there on their lowest like you were with them at their highest moments" his smile never left his lips and I felt like my chest lightened up a little.

"Love is not always about happiness, it will always be tested by challenges." He leaned down for our eyes to meet and I felt him softly gaze on my own ones.

"I don't know what you went through to think that way. But life is always about developing one's self. You might look down on yourself right now and get scared, but one day, you will need to face it. Challenges would never stop coming, but you will know who truly loves you when they join you with it" he removed the strands of my hair that was on my face as he tucked it behind my ear.

"You can't be happy without healing yourself"

Those words gave me the strength to finally face my father.

The man who I once look up to. But the one who is also the root of all my fears.

"This is the first time you finally faced me after all these years" he spoke up first before he faced the sunset in front of us.

"Dad" I called out as I saw how he fisted his hands but he kept his eyes in front.

"I don't deserve to be your father" he muttered as I felt my eyes turn glossy.

"What is love for you?" I whispered, ignoring his previous worrds. Because he was still the father who love me and my mother.

"I never found the real definition of that word. I only know that when I really felt the unexplainable happiness with that one person" he replied with a shaky breath.

I know how it was difficult to face me.

One of the people who really love him, and can hate him.

"Did dad love mom?"

We were silent before he finally spoke the words I badly need to hear.

"I love your mom so much. But I didn't manage to protect the relationship we both have" he finally chose to face me as I saw a small smile adorned his lips yet his eyes portrayed a different feeling.

"My insecurities clouded my mind that I didn't manage to think of the consequences. The fear that I keep following me finally catch up to me" he manage to let out.

"My daughter might be asking herself that if I indeed love your mother, why would I seek comfort on another woman, right?" A tear finally slid on his cheeks.

"The fear that your mother would get tired on the way I think, made me seek comfort on another woman. But it was a wrong move of mine, Y/n. I badly regret underestimating your Mom's love for me" he sighed out as he blink his tears away so he won't broke down on me.

"I cheated, and it was a choice, not a mistake"

"I don't want to cause you trauma, but it seems like I already did, didn't I?"

I felt the tears that gather on my eyes finally slid down from cheeks as he wipe his own ones.

"I'm sorry Y/n, I really am" I wiped my own tears as I took a deep breath.

"I hate myself for hurting both of you" he sobbed out.

And without any other words, I wrapped my arms around him, the things that he always done to me.

I badly wanted to heal...

And I knew I need to start with my family.

And if we finally manage, maybe...

I would start to look at myself differently.

Like what he told me.

"Keiji!" I cheered from the bleachers as his team managed to win in the semi-finals.

The happiness I felt was indescribable as the man looked up and gave me a smile before taking a bow as a thank you for cheering for them.

I will start healing, and I knew I wanted him to be with me throughout all the way.

And he didn't mind.

The first person I became friends with before that gratefulness turned into an admiration.

A man, even with a different personality and interest, he chose to become someone in my life.

He started as my friend before he became a man I started to love.

The person who never made me feel fear, a man who first lent a shoulder for me to lean on. The first person who made me look at myself differently than what I used to.

The person who understands my problems better and manages to comfort me with the words I wouldn't question myself for.

A guy who made me feel like I was not the person who I think I was.

The person I knew I would want to spend my life with. The man I would grow with, learn from, and love until my last breath.

Right now, I'm clearly aware of how different my thoughts were when I like someone, rather than the way I think when I start to love someone.

I really did start loving Akaashi Keiji.

And this time I am sure that it was really...

The emotion called Love

[animehouse-moe]

Chainsaw Man Chapter 127: Save The Asa

This if Fujimoto in his element, mixing parts and characters and approaches to create something that only he could. Lifting characters up with fancy words and emotional sentiments, only to have it come crashing down in the most hilarious and apt ways possible. Hardly a big chapter, but within the context of what's around it, certainly one that will be remembered.

⚠️Warning: Spoilers Ahead⚠️

A lot of the chapter focuses on Asa's attachment to life, as you'd expect. She circles the drain, remember her fears, her worst moments. She remembers just how much her life has sucked, how she's only kept alive to be used as a tool by a devil. It's all very outstanding, and is like an accelerated version of Denji's story because Asa is more aware of herself. It doesn't take the terrible moments for reality to break her, because she was never anywhere near the same rock bottom as Denji.

And that's what I love the most about it, Fujimoto's aware. Fujimoto's aware how terrible Denji's life has been, how brutal an existence he's been given, and rather than leveraging that against Asa, he uses it to subvert expectations and assert just what kind of person Denji is. An insane hybrid devil that is driven only by dreams. The kind of guy that can save Asa.

It's equally as ridiculous, because on the surface you hardly get what's really going on (cue the "Fujimoto fan making something out of nothing"). It's just crazy how Fujimoto is throwing out the dumbest stuff possible, but ends up cobbling together a far more realistic and approachable sentiment to suicidal thoughts. Who cares about the "big things" in life? Why would that matter to someone ready to end it all? It's the smaller pieces of life that they'll miss. Reading their favorite manga weekly, or not being able to pet another cat or dog.

And it just keeps going. It doesn't say "oh there's good stuff to life", or "I moved past it", because the last thing someone wants to hear is "it gets better". Because no shit, thinking it'll get better doesn't make it get better.

Instead, Denji steals the show with his idiocy, and proudly proclaims his dream. No longer is it something as childish, or lowbrow as "touching boobs". Nay, it's something more noble, something more lofty. Something that a young man would truly dream of.

And what gets me here is Asa's disgust, as if she didn't allude to the same thought earlier. Also, cute little symbolism of the pair of birds together. Simple piece about freedom and Asa finding someone, as the two birds join up with one another.

Anyways, it's hard to really give this chapter its flowers when you read weekly. But when you put it into the context of the world ending, of Asa slipping deeper and deeper into depression, of her being driven to suicide, of absolutely nothing going her way, I'd honestly say it's the pinnacle of the arc. Purely because it comes in to mock it. It basically laughs in the face of a nuanced conversation on depression and suicide and says, "yeah it's sucks ass, but don't you want to have sex or pet dogs & cats or have ice cream whenever you feel like it?". It's a beautiful aspect of Fujimoto, and I'd honestly liken it to the finale of Fire Punch (though as a lesser form). His grasp of how people tick is incredible, and being able to stretch that understanding to fit the insanity that he loves chasing is amazing.