#the same 3-drop. and when it dies it returns the same 2-drop which returns the same 1-drop

[dravidious]

You're more amazing than killing interdimensional entities that stand above the gods

I like graveyard stuff but hate reanimation so I made this card before realizing it was basically just Death's Oasis

[ranoutofficssoiwritemyown]

You decide to sleep on the couch after an argument pt.3

pt.1 pt.2 character: Caleb note: not proofread. haven't played the game since he came out so he might be a little oc

Caleb’s mind is simple: you being away from him means he can’t protect you from any possible danger. He is overprotective to the point it disturbs you and sometimes you think if it was up to him he would tie you to his side so you never leave his sight. Because you’re the safest by his side right?

Considering his possessive nature towards you, you can imagine the intensity of arguments between you two. The problem is, he doesn’t see how he’s wrong. You’re a professional hunter? You’ve lived for years without him? You’re one of the best at your dangerous job? falls on deaf ears and right now you’re so so close to strangling him. Instead, you turn around and go to your bedroom to get a blanket and pillow, because sleeping beside this obstinate asshole is the last thing you want tonight. after a minute you can sense Caleb’s presence. He yawns as he leans against the doorframe

“Whatcha doin’ pipsqueak?” His question is playful

“Oh, I’m pipsqueak again”

Caleb laughs at your sarcastic answer which earns your glare, making him mumble “Still mad I see” under his breath. Silently, you wonder if he is bothered by the argument at all. You gather everything in your arms and walk to the door and as you pass him he grabs your shoulder from behind and drapes himself over you.

“A little bit dramatic don’t you think?”

“You’re heavy, you asshole”

You grumble as you try to shrug him off but he won’t budge. Quite the opposite actually, his arms are wrapped around your shoulders tightly with his face in your neck.

“Can’t handle it? I thought you were a strong girl.”

“Do you, really? Because you act like I’m made of glass”

“Well, not glass. More like-”

You try to smack him but he moves his head to avoid it and laughs, instead catching your wrist and placing a kiss on your pulse point. Even though the gesture makes you blush, you snatch your hand back and accidentally hit his metal arm, causing you to hiss at the pain. He looks at you with a raised eyebrow as if saying ‘See?’ which makes you more furious.

He starts to say something but you interrupt.

“Let me go, Caleb. I’m mad at you and don’t want to sleep in the same bed as you”

“No”

“No?”

“Gotta keep you away from your thoughts, pipsqueak. What if you decide you want to leave me or something because of this stupid argument, hm? What then?”

You fall silent for a moment because you need to get this straight. So, he thinks that after he ‘died’ and you mourned him, thinking about him almost every day, years later you find out that he’s alive and is doing everything to keep you close, you will leave him because of an argument? Now, you doubt his sanity. On the other hand, Caleb takes your silence as a bad sign and starts panicking.

“Pipsqueak? Come to bed, please. And we can do whatever you want tomorrow. I’m yours the whole day- Hey, I’ll make braised chicken wings. You still love them right? Or whatever you want, you name it…” When he gets no answer, he drops his head on your shoulder, giving up “Okay, if you really don’t wanna sleep beside me, I’ll take the couch, just, please sleep in the bedroom.”

Finally, you sigh and lean your head against his chest.

“You won’t drop this, will you?”

He smirks because he knows you. He knows you want to give into him but your pride won’t let you. So you try to blame him. Make it look like, you don’t have a choice, so you don’t feel bad about yourself. But he’ll take it. He’ll take all the blame and allegation if it means you’ll stay with him.

“Not a chance” his voice is muffled against your neck as he pecks it, before removing himself from you and leading you back to your bedroom.

“I don’t think you’re made of glass,” he tells you when you’re both lying down on the bed and you place your head on his chest, in return, he wraps his arms around you.

“Hm?” you’re confused before you remember your earlier statement

“I don’t think you’re weak. The opposite actually, I think you’re very strong I just… I worry about you, I can’t help it. So what if you’re one of the best hunters? you’re not immortal. And when I think that there’s even the slightest chance that I might lose you again… I won’t be able to take it. So all this overprotective act is also for the sake of my sanity.” He laughs humourlessly in the end.

You raise your head to look at him. He’s already watching you with adoration behind his purple eyes. You brush the strands of hair from his forehead and place a kiss on his lips.

“I won’t leave you” You kiss the corner of his mouth “You’re crazy if you think leaving you has even crossed my mind. Now that I have you back? You’re stuck with me as much as I am with you”

There’s a faint smile on his lips as his eyes run over your face.

“Goodnight, pipsqueak"

“Goodnight, Caleb”

You both fall silent as you lay back down on his chest. However, the silence is broken by you.

“You’re making braised chicken wings for me, tomorrow”

“Absolutely” he agrees with a silent chuckle.

[sleepy-steve]

pt 3 of steve "dies but doesn't stay dead" harrington and eddie "ferryman of the river styx" munson // 2.5k // pt 1, pt 2 ♡

—

july 1985

Eddie’s not obsessed with Steve Harrington. He’s not. There’s just not much to think about between guiding souls to the boat. Not much in the way of entertainment in the Underworld. And Steve’s appearances—twice in as many years—were the most interesting things to happen to Eddie since his own death. And his returns to the living world are worth space in Eddie’s mind. At least that’s what he tells himself, to justify how much time he spends thinking about the guy.

Still not entirely convinced of the answer he was given by his superiors about souls that sometimes return to the living world, Eddie finds himself constantly thinking about the possibilities. So Eddie seeks out the last soul that held his position. The previous ferryman of his boat is more than happy to answer his questions. Turns out Eddie would eventually retire—after a 500 year tenure—so that’s something to look forward to. The older man tells Eddie that yes, some souls died and then returned to the living world, but what Steve was experiencing was something different. A curse. To die and never stay dead, it took its toll on the spirit. Chips away at it. Weakens the soul. Eddie thinks it sounds a bit dramatic, but still holds some apprehension as he wonders when Steve might return. Steve’s voice echoing in his mind long after he’s disappeared: I’ll see you next time.

This time it’s only eight months.

The spot that Eddie fixates on constantly between carting souls onward could be lit on fire by the intensity of his gaze. He stares and stares, part of him believing that if he stares long enough, he can force Steve to return through sheer force of will. The other part of him is ashamed for wanting that at all. What kind of guy wanted another guy—a good guy, a friend, even—to die again? How selfish was that? It’s just when Eddie is running down another thought spiral like this when Steve Harrington appears again.

Groaning, holding his head, Steve sits up slowly. Groggily. Eddie takes in just what he’s looking at. Steve looks the same, but different. The same in that his hair is still somehow perfect, his eyes are still hazel, and his face is once again bashed to hell and back. (Eddie wonders if he even remembers what Steve looks like without bruises on his face.) Different in that his hair is a bit longer, he looks so confused about where he is, and the outfit…

“Harrington?” Eddie ventures cautiously. “You alright, man?”

“Robin?” Steve asks, still dazed as he blinks repeatedly.

Who? “Uh, no, dude. Eddie, remember?”

Steve’s eyes focus on Eddie, who gives him a little two-finger wave, hoping that his face doesn’t give away just how concerned he is right now. The previous two times, Steve was never confused about where he was. Knew exactly what was going on. This time though…

“Oh, no…” Steve drops his head into his hands as he groans his… disappointment? Eddie tries hard not to take that personally. Watching as Steve continues to mumble curses and grievances under his breath, Eddie waits awkwardly on his boat.

“…Steve?” He finally offers. “You good?”

“Ugh, yeah, I mean…” Steve grumbles. “I know I’ll be fine. Just Robin, and the kids… I don’t know if they’re safe.” Eddie’s unbeating heart aches at how earnest Steve is about ensuring his friends’ safety. “And now I’m not there to make sure.”

Eddie nods sympathetically. “But… you’ll go back, right?” Steve glances up. It’s the first time Eddie’s verbally conceded to Steve’s ability to return to the living world. “I mean, you have every other time.”

“Yeah.” Steve nods distantly. “Yeah, I assume so.”

The guy looks so disappointed, so… distressed by his being here. It’s so unlike him. Steve has always been very casual about his deaths. There must be some real stakes at hand this time. More than monsters, which is crazy to think about.

“You, uh…” Eddie falters when Steve looks up at him, big hazel eyes shining. “You wanna tell me what happened?”

A little smile pulls at the corner of Steve’s mouth, and Eddie settles himself over the edge of the boat, crossing his arms. Steve slowly pulls himself closer, sitting right on the edge of the river, as close as he can get, and tells Eddie the whole story. Everything from Dustin Henderson—a middle schooler sounding oddly like he was Steve’s best friend—arriving at his workplace with a weird recording, to his coworker Robin Buckley translating it, to roping in Erica Sinclair—and god, Steve regretted that so much—to the elevator, to them finally getting caught.

Nodding along and only asking a few questions to clarify the story or who Steve was talking about, Eddie found himself wondering what the hell Steve Harrington’s life actually was. This didn’t even have anything to do with the monsters Steve had mentioned in his previous visits. A whole secret base of foreign soldiers hidden under a mall? It’s unbelievable. Were it not for how seriously Steve was telling the story, the fear in his eyes, the concern for his friends, Eddie would say he was making it up.

“…and they kept asking, y'know? Who do you work for? And they just wouldn’t believe me.” Steve sniffs, resting his chin on his bare knees, arms wrapped around his legs. “Last thing I remember is getting punched in the face.” He glances up at Eddie with a sad half-smile. “Again.”

“How does this keep happening to you, man?” Eddie asks, concern bleeding through his words.

“I blame Dustin.” Steve tilts his head to the side, joke falling flat. “Or maybe I’m just. Really, really unlucky.”

Eddie takes in Steve’s injuries. The horrifically bruised and swollen eye. The split lip. The dried blood under his nose. It wasn’t as bad as last time, but Eddie didn’t know how many injuries were hidden under that blue shirt. The previous ferryman’s words echo in his mind. A curse.

“Nah.” Eddie says. “I blame Dustin, too.” The kid sounded nice enough, maybe too smart for his own good, but Eddie hadn’t met him, so he didn’t feel too guilty about it. Steve gave him a look that said he knew exactly what Eddie was doing. “I’m sure they’re gonna be fine, Steve.”

“Hope so. Just don’t want them to go after Robin if I’m dead up there.”

Ah yes, Robin. Steve had spoken so highly of her. How smart she was. Brave, for joining them. Funny, though Steve didn’t want to admit it since most of her jokes were targeted at him. She sounded cool, but something about how he spoke about her made Eddie weirdly sad. Part of him wonders if, in another world, the three of them would have been friends.

“You think they will?”

“Hopefully I’ll get back before they do,” Steve says with a sigh. “Time works different here, anyway.”

Eddie frowns. “It does?”

“Yeah, it’s never as long up there. Much shorter.” Steve shrugs. “Probably a good thing.”

Brows pulled together, Eddie thinks back to the previous times Steve had visited. He was only around for thirty minutes tops. Less the first time, probably. What would that have translated to in the real world? Half that time? A few minutes? 

Silence settles over them, Steve staring into the middle distance with a look of worry etched into his face between the lacerations and bruises. Eddie fixates on the cut over his lip, swollen and red. When Steve notices him staring, Eddie clears his throat and quickly looks down, then back up.

“So, what’s up with the outfit, man?” The subject change is clunky at best, but Eddie’s curiosity was getting the better of him. And it was better than the staring.

Steve finally laughs. His good eye crinkles with it, the smile wide on his face. “I told you man, it’s an ice cream shop!”

“But why are you a sailor?” Eddie matches his grin.

“It’s called Scoops Ahoy, the whole thing is like, nautical themed.”

Eddie raises a brow. “Nautical?”

“Nautical,” Steve confirms with a nod. There’s a beat of silence before both of them dissolve into giggles. “You should see the stupid hat they make us wear.”

“Wish I could.” Eddie sighs, his laughter tapering off. His brain moves faster than he can stop it, and suddenly it’s presenting him with a scenario. Eddie waltzing into the ice cream parlor, with its weird little nautical theme, leaning over the counter and getting into Steve’s face as he asks for a free sample. Steve might blush, and say that usually they’d charge for that, but for Eddie it’s free. He might adjust the hat, which Eddie pictures as a little white thing, classic sailor costume, with a blue stripe. Eddie might say that he can think of a way to pay Steve for it, taking hold of that little red tie and pulling Steve closer over the counter.

“You picturing it?” Steve asks, head tilted and a bemused look on his face.

Eddie jolts out of his fantasy, feeling hot in his cheeks. “Mhm, yep, I’m picturing. Looks pretty stupid.”

Steve snorts in response. “It is.” He sighs. “But, y’know. S’not all bad. I met Robin there.”

Robin again. Eddie identifies a feeling rising up in his chest and forces it back down, pointedly not giving it any attention. “Yeah, she, uh. She sounds… pretty cool.”

“She is.” Steve smiles, looking down at the grass.

“You… like her?” Eddie tries. He’s torn between his desire to know more and his desire to never talk about her ever again.

“Hm?” Steve’s head snaps up. “Oh, uh, I mean. She’s… in… band.” He trails off, looking unsure.

“She’s in band?” Eddie clarifies with a raised brow. “Ah, so, not your type?” Hopefully. Eddie shoves that thought down and compartmentalises it into a neat little box alongside his weird feeling to deal with later.

Steve sighs. “I don’t know, man. She’s cool, and funny, and smart. Maybe too smart for me. I guess I’m trying to, y’know, let go of all that—stupid high school shit.” He waves his hand as he says it.

Eddie’s surprised by this response. He thought Steve would say he was into cheerleaders or something like that. “That’s… cool, man.” He pauses and takes in a low breath before continuing. “You should ask her out.” He says it before he can convince himself it’s a bad idea.

“You think?” Steve looks up at him and genuinely seems unsure. Seems to want Eddie’s honest opinion.

“Yeah. I don’t think she’d go through all this and follow you into danger if she didn’t like you as well.” Eddie swallows the thing inside him that’s clawing up his throat and begging him to stop talking. “Tell her how you feel.”

“Thanks, man,” Steve says, like he’s thanking Eddie for more than just his advice. “You’re a good friend.”

A pang hits Eddie right in his chest and he smiles despite it. “We aim to please, down here, Stevie. All Inclusive Underworld Service.” He tilts his head exaggeratedly and holds his arms out, leaning heavily into his joke.

“I mean it, Eddie,” Steve continues earnestly. “It’s… nice, y’know? Having you here when I die. Familiar face. Makes me feel like it’s all gonna be okay.”

Eddie softens at his words, letting his arms slowly fall to his sides. “It is, Steve.” Eddie leans one the edge of the boat again, arms folding under his chest. “I’m glad we’re friends.” And he does mean it, despite the other feelings fighting for attention inside him.

Steve grins back at him, wide and genuinely happy amongst the cuts and bruises on his face. A few moments pass and Eddie briefly wonders how much time they have left. How much time before Steve disappears before his eyes again and leaves for an unknown amount of time. Once again torn between his want for Steve to stop getting himself hurt and killed, and his extremely selfish desire for Steve to stay with him, Eddie silently argues with himself.

“Can I ask you something?” Steve’s question once again draws Eddie out of his own mind.

Eddie shrugs. “Sure, man.”

“How did you… die?” Steve looks unsure as he asks. “Is it okay if I ask that?” He quickly adds.

“Uh, yeah.” Eddie feels himself draw in a little, retreating into himself. “I mean. Kind of a shitty story. But it’s, y’know. Whatever.” His hands flick and wave around with his words. “Um, I was doing this job with my dad and it just. Went bad.”

“You don’t have to tell me if…” Steve trails off, eyes going unfocused, pausing for a moment before he looks up again. “Damn it!”

Eddie feels disappointment crawl across his chest, knowing before he asks. “What?”

“I’m going back. I can hear Robin on the other side.” Steve sighs, seeming genuinely upset. “I’m sorry, man.”

“Oh, it’s—it’s fine.” It doesn’t feel fine. Eddie hopes it doesn’t show on his face.

Steve gives him a half smile. “Tell me next time?”

Not wanting to get his hopes up, Eddie tries to force his expression into one of mild admonishment. “Don’t let there be a next time, Steve.”

His half smile turns to a full grin. “I’ll try not to.” Steve slowly pulls himself up, brushing dry grass off his blue shorts.

“Steve, wait.” It comes out before Eddie can stop himself. “Could you… do something? For me?” The words come out stilted, and even as he’s speaking, he wonders why he’s even asking.

“Sure, man. Anything.” Steve looks at him wide-eyed and attentive.

“Just, uh.” Eddie cringes at himself, forcing the words out before he can change his mind. “Could you, maybe, check on my uncle? See how he’s going? I just—I wanna know that he’s okay.”

A beat of silence sits between them before Steve responds. He sounds so determined. Like Eddie was entrusting him with something precious and important. “Of course, Eddie. I will.” 

Relief washes over him at Steve’s words. Eddie lets out a breath as the tightness in his chest fades. “Wayne Munson. He lives over at the Forest Hills trailer park.”

“Wayne Munson, Forest Hills” Steve repeats dutifully, giving a single nod. “Got it.”

“Thanks, man,” Eddie says with sincerity, looking up at Steve from the boat. “Means a lot to me.”

Steve looks at him for a moment, like he has something on his mind, but then jolts out of it. “Sorry, I gotta go now.”

“Yeah.” They continue looking at each other, somehow feeling closer now that Steve is standing, and Eddie feels the odd urge to reach out to him. Unsure what to do with that, he pushes that urge down into another compartment alongside the others to deal with later.

“Thank you, Eddie. Seriously.” Steve smiles at him, bright and sincere through the bruises and lacerations on his face.

“Anytime,” Eddie says, slightly breathlessly. And then Steve is gone, leaving Eddie with an unfamiliar emptiness inside him.

Why does Eddie suddenly miss this man he barely knows? This awful feeling inside him that begs for attention and demands that Steve return reaches through Eddie’s chest and rattles against his ribcage. A strange sadness resting within him, waiting to be dissected.

Hours later, when he’s still feeling weird and sad, a realisation hits him. Eddie didn’t even ask Steve to get in the boat.

[motorsportbarbie13]

A Package Deal - epilogue 1

In which Lando has doubts about his worth.

warnings: angst and talk of parental death. fluff at the end tho. pairing: lando norris x singlemom!reader word count...idk like 2k? maybe less!

A Package Deal - A Package Deal - Part 2 - A Package Deal - Part 3 - A Package Deal - Part 4 - A Package Deal - Part 5 - A Package Deal - Part 6

"Today was...a lot." You sigh, collapsing into bed beside an already tucked in Lando.

"Mhm." Lando's reply is quick, a sound devoid of any emotion that has your head swinging over to where he sits beside you.

You, Lando, Stella and the rest of your family had spent most of the day moving things from your old house into the house you and Lando had purchased a few weeks after returning home from Switzerland. Both of you had wanted a fresh start as a new family and this home was supposed to be your new beginning. Something about his demeanor right now though had alarm bells ringing in your head.

"Everything okay my love?"

At this point in your relationship, you and Lando could pretty much communicate solely with an exchanged look across a room and a change in posture. You could tell when something was off with your fiance.

"Are we sure Stella should be calling me dad?"

If you had been asked to predict what was bothering Lando before he had opened his mouth, the question he asked you as he sat avoiding your stunned look was simply not even in the top 1,000 things that could have been on that list.

"I'm sorry, come again?" You try so hard to keep your anxiety and anger in check at the absolute audacity of his question, hoping that he has a good reason to be questioning his role in Stella's life.

The same heavy weight of anxiety sits on Lando's shoulders, unable to look you in the eyes. "I mean, I'm not." He says softly. "She has a dad. He died but I can't replace him. I shouldn't want to replace him."

You stare at Lando for several moments trying to come up with a response. This was certainly not the conversation you had anticpated having tonight, not after spending nearly 12 hours moving house but, here you were. Lando and you hadn't talked much about your ex. There wasn't much to say. You had dated when you were teenagers, got pregnant by accident as teenagers sometimes do, and by the time you had Stella you had gone your separate ways. He had been a good dad to Stella in those eight months before the accident, of course, but he had never connected with Stella the way you had when she was a baby.

Gingerly moving over so you're shoulder to shoulder with Lando, you lay your head on his shoulder. Relief that washes over you when he drops his head onto yours and takes your hand in his, playing with your engagement ring while he sits quietly.

Lando wasn't having second thoughts about you and Stella, about his commitment to either of you. Absolutely not. He was insecure and worried about stepping into a role that he thought he didn't deserve.

"Lan, Stella was eight months old when Chris died. You're not trying to replace him but you're the only dad she's ever known, baby. Where is all this coming from?"

If you know Lando like you think you do, you're pretty sure somethings got his anxiety up and he's worried himself into a spiral where he's convinced himself that he's not good enough or worthy of the family that he's got now.

And when he opens his mouth to explain, your suspecisons are confirmed.

"When I was packing up Stella's room today, I came across a few pictures of Chris holding Stella in the hospital." A bright shock of pain slices through Lando's chest at the thought of that picture and the feelings of jealousy that had come with seeing it for the first time. He couldn't believe how jealous he had felt knowing that he had missed that with Stella. With you. How he'd missed seeing you pregnant for the first time, how even when you started a family together like you'd talked about countless amounts of times, he'd never truly be the first one to have a family with you. He had spent the rest of the day thinking about how maybe he didn't deserve to have Stella call him dad anymore, how he hadn't earned it because there had been someone before him.

"I just don't want her to grow up thinking I'm trying to take his place. She has a dad already and what if resents me for stepping into that dad role when she's older? What if I don't deserve to be her dad?"

The pain in Lando's voice has your chest squeezing so painfully it becomes difficult for you to breathe. "Lando." You whisper, interlocking your fingers with his as you nuzzle deeper into his neck. "Baby, I need you to listen to me right now, okay? Can you do that for me?"

You pause, waiting for him to at least confirm he's going to try. When you feel him nod against your head, a small humm emanating from his throat, you continue. "Stella was eight months old when Chris died, she has no memories of him. You are the only dad she's ever known, okay? You. Do you understand me?"

"But what if..."

"No." You interrupt, tone a bit harsher than you intended. "Nope, you need to stop right there with the 'what ifs', Lan. Chris and I were friends for a very long time before we even started dating. I knew him very well and I need you to trust me when I tell you that he would be very much on board with Stella calling you dad."

Lando lifts his head before tilting your chin up so you can finally look at him in the eyes. His brows are furrowed and he's looking down at you like he can't quite believe what you're saying. Like he doesn't have the confidence in himself to believe what you're saying is true.

When he doesn't say anything further, you continue. "That little girl that I just finished tucking into bed adores you. She thinks the absolute world of you, my love. She was the one to call you dad in the first place, and if there's one thing i've learned since becoming a mom its that sometimes you have to trust that what your kid is saying is the truth. They're little humans with feelings and thoughts and beliefs of their own. Stella wouldn't call you dad if she didn't want to."

Your chest rises and falls faster at the end of your little speech, eyes searching Lando's for some kind of hint that you're getting through to him.

And you are. Lando's chest aches with the truth that he knows you're telling him. "I just don't think I could stand knowing I screwed something up with her. That I was a bad dad to her because I'm not really her parent."

You can't help but laugh at that and Lando's brow tugs together in confusion. "Baby, you're more of a parent than you realize."

"What do you mean?"

You reach down and capture Lando's hand in yours before giving it a squeeze. "You're not a true parent until you spend a majority of your time wondering if everything that comes out of your mouth or every decision you make is going to somehow screw up your kid. It's natural and it doesn't mean you're a bad parent."

You take Lando's face in your hands, pulling him towards you. When your nose is a breath away from his and you can almost feel his lips dusting over yours, you grin. "That makes you a good parent, Lando. And an even better one because you're helping raise a baby you didn't make. Stella is as much your baby as she is mine or Chris', do you understand me?"

Tears sting at the back of Lando's eyes. He hadn't realized how much seeing that picture of Chris and Stella in the hospital had bothered him. He felt guilty for ever being jealous of Chris, for being cold to you, for questioning Stella's judgement of her own feelings. All of it comes welling up in his chest, this feeling of overwhelming guilt threatening to drown him for a moment. You can see it happening, the panic attack coming on that you've witnessed before. You know how hard he is on himself, how much he wants to be perfect for everyone else because letting anyone down is akin to a waking nightmare.

"Listen to me." You beg, willing him to open his eyes so he can see how serious you are right now. "Lando, look at me."

Lando's eyes flutter open after a moment and you smile at him. "You are a good dad. The perfect dad for Stella, I swear to you. The first thing she asks me when I pick her up from school is always 'Is Lando home yet?' but since we came home from Switzerland, it's always 'is dad home yet?' Dad. That little girl sees you as her dad and that's the best gift you've ever given me. Do you remember what you told that horrendous PR girl last year?" You pause and Lando chuckles, that day last year in Miami flashing before his eyes.

"You told her Stella and I were the center of your world but you know what? You're the center of mine and Stella's world. I don't think you realize how important you are to other people, to us. Neither of us could survive without you, and that alone makes you worthy of being my husband and my little girl's father, okay?"

Tears stream down both of your faces as the words you've just said hang in the air between you, heavy and silent. You stay quiet, the reverberation of your words etching themselves into Lando's bones. He knows you're right, of course you are. But knowing you're right and beginning to believe it by himself? That was proving to be a little bit harder. But your words help him realize that he's doing a better job than he might think he is.

"Okay." He rasps out before covering your lips with yours, deperatly trying to show you just how much he loves you.

yourusername (private) posted

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[velvetlilacsdaisies]

Shit at Feelings ii

Bodhi Durran x Reader

Synopsis: Bonding with dragons? No issue. Killing venin? Unfortunate, but doable. Confronting your feelings towards your childhood best friend? No thanks.

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: Spoilers!! Swearing, reader being stubborn and both reader and Bodhi being lil dummies?? Lmk if I missed anything.

A/n: the end of 2023 kicked my booty!! Beginning of 2024 no better, but here is part 2! I was stuck on if some of part 3 was going to go in this one, but decided not to. Meddling Imogen, and dragon dialogue is included this part!

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The next day, you stretched with Imogen, returning from a morning run. Most cadets were still sleeping their hangovers off. Imogen said the best way to get over one was running it off. She had picked your lock and dragged you out of your bed this morning to do so. But you knew she just wanted to gossip about the night before.

“So you and Durran?” She had a smirk on her lips, tucking a piece of vibrant pink hair behind her ear.

Imogen only knew about whatever you felt for Bodhi, but with the way Rhiannon reacted last night you weren’t sure if you were discreet about whatever you felt in the first place.

“Not what you think.” You sighed, your arms over your head as you sat on the ground, leaning to one side. “We talked once everyone went to bed.”

She looked at you expectantly as she lifted a leg and stretched it behind her. “And?”

You clicked your tongue, leaning to the other side. “And he called me out on my bullshit.”

She laughed almost manically, earning her a pointed glare. “I’m sorry, sorry.” She then dropped her leg and lifted her other. “But you really left him high and dry.”

You grumbled, “I know and I feel like shit about it.” You stood up dusting your leathers off.

“Y/n, just tell him how you feel.” She shook her hands out.

“How do you expect me to tell him everything when I’ve been avoiding him for years because I’m too scared that something will happen once I spill my guts.”

“Gods, I get it. You’re scared, but you already almost died once without telling him. You think you shouldn’t say a little prayer to Malek and Amari that they gave you a second chance?” Imogen said sternly. “Also if it was anyone else you pulled that disappearing act with, you wouldn’t have the same mercy. But it’s Bodhi we’re talking about, and he would let you lead him to hell and back as many times as you wanted because let’s face it—you’re you. And for some fucked up reason he worships the ground you walk on like you were a god yourself.”

You didn’t know if the queasiness you felt was the hangover or how right she was. He would do anything for you. Even how shitty you treated him for the last two years. Last night proved that.

“He even risked smuggling your fucking sketchbook in so you could have something from home—“

“What?” Your jaw dropped.

The pink haired girl inhaled sharply. “Fuck I wasn’t supposed to say that.”

“He was the one that did that?” Your heart skipped a beat. Even when you had been so stubborn to avoid him, he thought of you? You had questioned the hell out of Garrick, Imogen, and Xaden for a week about it. You had never thought about the younger Riorson cousin.

“I hate being the middleman in your two demented whatever you got going on.” She sighed. “Listen, forget I said that or take that as a sign to pull your head out of your ass. I’ll see you at breakfast.” She patted your shoulder, leaving you alone in the courtyard.

Well you felt like the shittiest person ever.

You knew you needed to talk to him, and you couldn’t run and avoid him this time. As much as you wanted to hop on Clesaí’s back and ride very far away. Fuck.

You had spent an hour already mulling over the information you had just received. Then replaying the argument last night—which then led to remembering the very brief exchange with Bodhi in Aretia, ultimately leading you to the nightmare from Resson plaguing your thoughts. Like they had when you tossed and turned in bed last night, and the prior nights before that. By the time you entered the mess hall, your thoughts felt like nonsense.

He sat with Imogen at the end of the table filled with third years. They looked deep in a discussion, whispering only to one another. You gulped quietly, were they talking about you? You now knew Imogen felt like a middleman between the two of you, you wondered what he talked about to her. You tried not to overthink it as you reluctantly walked over.

As you reached the table, you could hear Bodhi saying something quite harshly. While the pink haired girl had the same expression she wore when she told you to pull your head out of your ass. It was obviously something he didn’t want you to hear because as soon as he saw you coming up, he stopped mid sentence.

“Can we talk?” You asked him, not bothering to greet the pair. He tensed, and you didn’t miss the look he tried to discreetly give your mutual best friend.

Imogen rolled her eyes, grabbing her things and getting up from the table. “I totally forgot Quinn needed help with something. Bye guys.” She gave a twinkle of her fingers before walking away with a smug look on her face.

You sat down, taking the seat Imogen had been in. “So,” you awkwardly tapped your fingers on the wooden table.

“So,” he repeated. “How was your morning run with Immy?”

“Brutal.” You replied. Why was this so uncomfortable?

“Listen, about last night—”

“It needed to be said.” You waved a hand nonchalantly. Your heart begged to differ, beating against your chest. “I was icing you out.”

“I didn’t mean to come off so harshly.” He tucked his bottom lip between his teeth nervously.

Was it possible for you to want a man more? Even during such an embarrassing display of emotion on your behalf? Trying not to focus on the fact you wanted to reach over and be the one tugging his bottom lip between your teeth, you stared at the wood grain of the table.

“I was stubborn.” You reasoned.

“Y/n Y/L/n, stubborn?” There was a tinge of amusement in his tone. “I guess there’s a first time for everything—I mean the taking accountability part at least.” You looked up, and saw him intently staring at you. Through the sarcasm, his brown eyes were warm like deep rich honey.

A ghost of a smile on your lips. “You know me better than anyone else apart from Imogen. The way I regarded you wasn’t fair.” You then contemplated your next words. “And I know—”

“Durran!” Dain walked over, Rhiannon, and a few other second and third year cadets behind him.

Bodhi flinched, shifting his attention to the group. “Yes, Wingleader Aetos?” He had icy malice as he took in Dain. You yourself could feel your anger rise when the third year came in your vicinity. He was the reason you had been in Resson, and why Liam and Soilel were dead.

Dain noted the unwelcome greeting from the both of you and faltered for a moment, heat flushing his cheeks. “We have a meeting.” He cleared his throat, straightening back up.

The man sat across from you glared over to the brunette man. “I’ll be right there.” He then turned back to you with a softer look in his eyes and an apologetic smile where the scowl was a moment prior. “Can we finish this conversation later?”

You could feel the eyes of Rihannon linger on the two of you, and you knew the others now were acutely aware of the interaction as well.

“Yeah, yeah. No worries.” You brushed it off, though disappointment filled you. You were finally getting somewhere, but you knew he couldn’t ignore the newly appointed wingleader.

You had been looking down in your lap, missing the subtle look back Bodhi gave you as he left with the group.

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Later had come and gone with no sign of Bodhi still. Leaving a lurching feeling in your heart, but you tried not to wallow in self pity too much. You had thought maybe you deserved to be stood up. But at least you didn’t run this time, and it was his move now.

“The male of your affection causes too much of a distraction for you anyway.” Cleasaí huffed in your mind. Rolling your eyes you focused on the sketchbook in front of you. “Makes you a lovesick puppy as you would say.”

“Am not,” you bristled.

It was late in the afternoon and you were spending time with Cleasaí in the flight field, avoiding everyone. You had brought a blanket to lay on as you laid back against her front leg. She protectively curled around you, sunbathing, leaving you with a sufficient amount of shade to look at your sketchbook.

“I’m assuming you’ve never had a dragon that captured your affection?” You spoke out loud.

She nestled her head on the ground, huffing again. “I’d rather not say,” you could sense the disdain in her bored tone. A sly smile crept on your face, leaning up and staring right at the green dragon, who had feigned resting her eyes.

“You have, haven’t you?” Egging for more info from the clubtail.

“We haven’t been seeing eye to eye for a year.” Was all she grumbled. “Speaking of not seeing eye to eye. Your human approaches.”

“He’s not my human.” You hissed quietly, looking up to see Bodhi was indeed walking towards you, his dragon Cuir following a reasonable distance away.

“I’ve been looking for you.” He offered you a lazy smile, careful to avoid eye contact with Cleasaí. “Cuir said he thought he noticed Cleasaí leave the Vale.”

Your dragon sighed in annoyance. “Busybody,” she glowered in your head, causing you to grin. Did she mean Cuir or Bodhi? “I meant the annoying green one, but your human is quite a busybody as well. He couldn’t have waited until you came back from the flight field?” This caused a genuine laugh to escape your lips.

Bodhi only gave you a nervous look, “I hope she’s not talking about me.”

“You can tell him yes.” She grunted.

“No, she's just grumpy.” You lightly patted her scaly leg causing her to grunt again.

“How’s her claw?” He asked, scanning the injured back leg of hers.

“None of his business or that one’s over there.” She chuffed, baring her teeth toward Cuir. You didn’t know why she was persistent on one of her own den members not knowing of her condition.

Rolling your eyes, ignoring her. “She's doing better. She should be clear when lessons start again.”

Bodhi had a tight lipped smile on his own face, his shoulders shaking in laughter. Cuir whipping his head annoyed several yards behind him.

“I’m sorry, he can be quite the worrier especially over—”

An audible growl came from your dragon, earning a suspicious look from you.

“What is going on with you?” You scolded Cleasaí mentally.

“Worry about your own human afflictions.” Was all she said down the bond.

The man glanced at the book in your lap, and a grin spread across his cheeks. “You’re drawing in your sketchbook again?” He took a seat across from you on the ground, careful to not be too close to your dragon. Cuir had done the same in the distance.

You blushed slightly, “there’s a new sentimental value to it.” You chewed on your bottom lip, looking up at him. Bodhi had a gleam you couldn’t place in his eye, and his cheeks were blushed slightly too. You couldn’t help but smile broadly at his coyness. “I know you’re the one that brought the book back.”

“Who? Me? Why would I do that?” He propped his knees up, holding his forearms on them as he gazed up at the late afternoon sky.

He had always looked the handsomest during golden hour, your favorite features of his were enhanced. The tones of the setting sun had embraced his face, his eyes warm with gold flecks scattered throughout, and his onyx curls radiating chocolate brown undertones.

You tucked your hair behind your ear, “I don’t know I was wondering the same.” The broad smile painted on your face tilted downward.

“I thought maybe it would’ve been a dead giveaway, and you would have taken it as an olive branch.” He suggested, turning back to you.

You were thumbing at the page that it had been on, the textured parchment. Boy, were you an idiot.

“I thought you hated me or would have been tired of me by now.” You admitted.

“Why would I feel either of those things Y/n?”

“Because you offer me all this patience and kindness that I don’t deserve.” You said exasperated. “And in return I offer stubbornness and do everything in my power to avoid you.”

He chuckled dryly, “haven’t you realized? I don’t care.”

“Well I feel like you should.” This would be an argument that you wouldn’t let go. Screw Amari or Malek giving you a second chance, you didn’t feel worthy of that chance. Nor did you want to see anything happen to Bodhi if you were to accept him back into your life.

“Well, unfortunately I can’t control how I feel,” He looked back at the sketchbook in your lap. A smirk creeping onto his lips. “And apparently neither can you.”

“What do you mean?” Your eyebrow raised at him, and he only made a subtle gesture to the book. You looked down, your cheeks turning bright red.

You had been aimlessly sketching, not thinking too much about what you were putting on paper. It started as just a pair of eyes, but then turned to a full blown portrait of a man. Not just any man though, it had a striking resemblance to Bodhi.

Who were you trying to fool? It was him. From the crinkle by his eye when he’s amused to the unruly curls that always fell in his face.

“That’s all I need to know,” the smirk had turned to a shit eating grin.

You kept opening your mouth trying to respond, but you were left speechless.

“You can’t pull your shit anymore, Y/l/n.” He lifted himself off the ground, wiping the dirt off his leathers standing.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You shake your head furiously, finding your voice finally.

You wanted to wipe the cocky look off his face desperately. “Whether you admit it or not, you can’t hide from me anymore.” He responded so cooly, it made you grit your teeth irritatedly. “Don’t worry, Y/n/n your secret’s safe with me.” He teasingly held his hand over his heart. “It’s rather endearing.”

“Bodhi,” you groaned. You could feel the heat evade your face and ears. “It’s not that serious—“

“Serious enough to me.” He didn’t let your annoyance faze him. “I’ll see you around.”

You rolled your eyes, watching him leave down to the main campus. Cuir takes off into the sky and back to the Vale, leaving you and Cleasaí alone again. Releasing a sigh of air that you hadn’t known you were holding when he got out of the ear shot.

‘Lovesick puppy.’ Your dragon had hummed amused. Deep chirping sounds audibly coming from her. Was she laughing at you?

“Me?” You were quick to turn and glower, your lip tugging upward in aggitatation. “How about we talk about you for a second? What the hell was that?”

‘It’s just sometimes the male greens can be so…” she paused. ‘Suffocating?’ She was choosing her words wisely. As though it seemed like she was hiding something, but not surprising you though. Cleasaí was rather secretive, it was what she was known for in the green den. A trickster of sorts, with cunning deception.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” You pressed further.

She chuffed, “I’d rather not divulge that at the moment, but in due time...” She drew, sounding almost feline.

You knew better to argue, she was just as hard headed as you, and if you pushed her too hard, she’d push right back. Then that got you both nowhere. So you stood, gathering your things to retreat to your dorm and get ready for dinner and tonight’s shenanigans.

“Sooner than later, please.” You gave her an expectant look.

She got up, shaking out her scales and stretched a bit. “Yes yes sooner than later, don’t fret Lovesick puppy.”

“Stop calling me that!” You yelled over your shoulder as you retreated back to campus. You could hear the chuff she released in amusement in the distance as you descended the ancient stone stairs.

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Thank you so much for the patience and the support! Please do not hesitate to let me know your thoughts and feedback. Also like and reblog 🫶🩷🤠

[bansheeoftheforest]

Still refusing to reread PJO/TKC but it is still infesting my brain so woe crossover au be upon yall

Au where Anubis casually gets assigned to be Bianca's and Nico's older brother, anyone?

(messy points below, mostly from Anubis' pov coz he is my pookie, and keep an eye out in the reblogs section for add-ons/updates!)

Like, once the other Egyptian gods start dropping like flies because the magicians are imprisoning them, assuming they may also go after Anubis, he turns to Hades as a very very very last resort because, well, he would like to not be imprisoned for all eternity, thank you very much. Hades agrees on the condition that Anubis looks after his demigods, since he otherwise really isn't to any use of him, which Anubis accepts. So, Anubis is basically the Hades/Pluto demigods' divine babysitter in exchange for some protection from the magicians who may or may not also want to imprison him.

I shall say that this either works bc A) Hades kids radiate enough death so that he can be around them without a host or B) it is all just bureaucracy so when the rest of the Egyptian gods are gone those rules simply do not really apply.

Anyways, once the Big Three ProphecyTM rolls around and Maria Di Angelo kicks the bucket, Anubis is left in charge of making sure the Di Angelo siblings survive, taking them to and staying with them at the Lotus Casino and the different schools that Hades moves them around to, either as their "older brother"/guardian or as their pet dog that the authorities simply don't bat an eye at.

The siblings, with their memories absolutely fucked up, simply accepts that they either have a brother, a dog, an older brother who is occasionally a dog, or a dog that only conveniently shows up when their brother isn't there and vice versa.

And since I haven't read any RR books since I was 12 and I never read the HOO series, I can't really talk much about the logistics from here on out but. I have some thoughts in general.

Anubis makes sure that he takes the majority of the responsibilities, so that Bianca can be a little more happy and a little less stressed than she would have been if she was alone looking after her little brother.

He also happily distracts Nico when Bianca needs a break, he can genuinely listen to Nico ramble about whatever for hours, remembers it quite well and can return the conversation, which Bianca rarely has energy for.

(He was the exact same when he was young and wants to make sure Nico has someone that listens to him)

Genuinely cannot rest until he makes sure the siblings are fine and safe, which becomes a bit of a problem when Bianca goes on her first and last quest, and even more of a problem when he is more stuck in the Brooklyn House and he has to keep contacting Nico before he allows himself or Walt to rest as a result of that.

He is so so so so SO protective of the siblings. He is absolutely ready to die or kill for them. He is not a fighter, more often than not a pacifist, but when it comes to them he is the first to throw hands.

Also him absolutely being ready to kill the demigods that find the siblings at the military school coz he is so used to the "any demigod or magician is here to kill one of us and I have to protect them at all costs" mode that he has been kinda stuck in for the last 70 or so years, minimum.

He is merely an older sibling running on the equivalent of 3 hours of sleep and 2 strong coffees, which really doesn't help the situation once shit starts going down in Brooklyn/the Egyptian pantheon.

Speaking of the Brooklyn House. After being a Divine BabysitterTM for like 2000 years he genuinely cannot get rid of those base instincts, which ends up with him fussing over the Kanes/Walt/Zia and the rest of the initiates because those are CHILDREN and they need to REST and be SAFE and EAT PROPERLY and TAKE YOUR DAMN VITAMINES, WALT.

Because of those 2000 years of babysitting, Anubis is genuinely amazing with kids. You'd think they'd be scared by him, but no. He is the first one they run to when they scraped their knee and need a band aid and a hug.

He also 100% stares right into Percy's and Will's souls the moment he finds out Nico has/had crushes on them. Despite being raised in an entirely different time he definitely is a "no dating until you are at least 25 otherwise I might have a heart attack" sibling and he is not letting some random demigod break his lil brother's heart. He accepts Will well enough though coz he makes Nico laugh which in the end is the most important thing.

Will might actually be more intimidated by Anubis than Hades but that doesn't stop him. Nico is his babygirl and he knows Anubis is (probably) more bark than bite (most of the time).

No matter if Hades allows him to like. stop being a babysitter once the gods are restored and Ma'at is balanced and all, Anubis still sticks around and checks in on Nico (and eventually Hazel). He gets antsy if he hasn't heard from them at least once a day.

He probably has a good base relationship with Jason and Reyna (bc both are protective older siblings when it comes to Nico) but he keeps Percy at a distance ever since Bianca's death (not that he blames him). But he isn't particularly close to any of them, as his priorities lay with Nico, Hazel, and the Brooklyn House.

Assuming Anubis doesn't like. Introduce himself to the greeks as "Anubis" and instead says he is someone else, I have absolutely no idea when or if he would ever tell any of the greek demigods what he truly is. But I suppose Nico would eventually find out that his older brother actually isn't related to him at all, or even from the greek pantheon, and instead only happened to become his older brother as a favour to Hades. Depending on how he finds out he definitely could get upset but I like to believe he sorta figures eventually, and is just happy Anubis genuinely cares for him.

I also like to think that the greek gods they meet when the demigods take the siblings from the school to camp half-blood, just gives Anubis A LookTM. Either they are fully aware he is protecting the Hades kids or they think an Egyptian god is just casually hanging out with some random demigods. Which must certainly be a sight to behold.

Can yall for a moment imagine being the Kane siblings, trying to get the feather of truth from the god of death to avoid the impending apocalypse, who then says "sorry I am mostly on babysitting duty so I can't really help yall more than this, good luck tho."

Walt who meets Nico and is so conflicted because in one way he is slightly weirded out by this tiny depressed gremlin, but in another way the Anubis PartTM of him is just going "protect protect protect protect", which is a weird first impression.

One of the Kane siblings would be interested in Mythomagic, I just know it. Either Sadie coz it is funky or Carter bc it is nerdy. Either way, Nico has at least one Kane to bond with bc of it.

Nico just has the ultimate diplomatic immunity because he can go between Camp Half-blood, Camp Jupiter, and the Brooklyn House basically as he pleases.

On a completely different topic, the majority of Nico's wardrobe is just shit he has stolen from Anubis, he just lets it happen, in part because it is not like he as a god has a limited wardrobe, and in part bc Nico is absolutely adorable when he drowns in Anubis' jackets bc they are too big for him.

Also, Anubis helping Nico train his death magic, and teaching him the easiest ways to build endurance while using it.

Frankly the thought of the rest of the gods being banished, imprisoned, in exile or attempting to free themselves while Anubis is playing babysitter is very funny to me in general. Imagine being Isis or Osiris and attempting to ask your nephew/son what he did during the 2000 years yall were imprisoned and he goes "I took a side job as a babysitter to pay the bills".

Honestly I might reblog this with more thoughts eventually. They are all just so pookie.

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

What remains of us, pt 10.

Summary: It's been months since their relationship suffered a devastating blow. Can they find a way back to each other?

Warnings: death, angst, mentions of mental health issues and suicide, fluff, mentions of a SCHOOL SHOOTING and a miscarriage, swearing

Word count: 3.6 k

Author's note: I expect the next part to be the finale. Hope you've enjoyed the story so far.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

It felt like torture, being so close to her yet worlds apart…the distance remained insurmountable and the space between them wasn’t just physical; it was filled with unsaid words, heartache, and the weight of what could’ve been. Wally could’ve reached out and touched her, but he didn’t. Not yet. She had to want that again, and for the longest time, she didn’t. Or so she claimed.

She’d told him there was nothing left to fight for, but she was still here. Still haunting the same hallways. Still tethered to Split River High. That meant something. Her heart is simply too afraid of the pain she’d have to touch if she opened it to him again.

At first, Wally thought it was about Maddie. Y/N flinched at every mention of her, every half-joke he made in passing. But Maddie herself had spoken to her, gently confirming everything Wally had already said. “No one can compare to you Y/N,” she told her.

It should’ve been enough.

But it wasn’t.

Not because she doubted his words, but because she couldn’t forget what he had done. And as the months bled into each other, Wally realized it had nothing to do with Maddie. It was all him. The lie. The omission. The cowardice. That was the rot she couldn't ignore.

He’d tried talking. Tried romantic gestures. Love letters. Songs. Even poetry, God help him. Once, she would’ve swooned. Now, she just watched him quietly, arms crossed, eyes unreadable.

Eventually, he stopped performing. None of those things bared his soul. Not the way she needed.

So when Homecoming rolled around, a night that once meant everything, he didn’t go. First time ever. His parents had stopped showing up long ago. There was no reason left for him to pretend.

Instead, he found her.

Sitting on the cold, tiled floor beneath the library window where the moonlight spilled in soft silver beams. Without a word, he sat beside her. Close, but not touching.

“The year you died was the year my mom didn’t come to the Homecoming game,” Wally begins. “She was at every game before that…religiously.”

Y/N turned her head. Her eyes met his, and her lips parted slightly, like a breeze had just ghosted over them. She wanted to speak, but the words remained stuck in her throat.

“Seeing that empty seat in the bleachers,” he continued, “was the first time I knew she wasn’t in the living world anymore. That’s what helped me find peace. Or... the start of it. And then, when I helped Maddie return to her life, there weren’t any earthly ties left here. None, except…”

He inhaled, eyes dropping to his hands. “Except I wanted to help everyone else find their door. That became my reason.”

 “So, you stayed,” she whispered, more breath than sound.

He nodded. “I thought I was being selfless. But really? It was the most selfish thing I ever did… until I asked you to stay.”

“Explain.”

“I was afraid,” he admitted, his voice soft and hoarse. “Afraid of what waited on the other side. I didn’t want to move on and find nothing there. But then I saw you. That day, on the pole... and I knew…there’d be no peace if you weren’t with me.”

Y/N blinked, realization softening her frown. “Which I delayed indefinitely. And you never telling me any of this? Maybe I’d have gone to the scar sooner!”

“I didn’t want to pressure you,” he said quickly. “The door, it’s not something you should walk through because of someone else. You have to feel you’re ready. In your bones.”

“I still hate that you lied to me. I wouldn’t feel pressured, I’d feel comforted knowing there’s a way to get through…knowing you found your way would give me strength and inspiration for when I felt ready.”

“I know that now,” he said, voice cracking. “I love you, Y/N. I never said I was smart, but I love you the best way I know how, with everything I have. Maybe I fuck up from time to time, but the intent is never to cause you pain.”

“I promised you I wouldn’t,” he replied, offering a soft smile. “Besides, you’re terrifying when you’re mad.”

Her laugh burst out before she could stop it, a surprised, genuine sound that made his chest ache with relief. Her nose scrunched the way it always did when she was trying not to laugh harder. He hadn’t seen that expression in too long.

“I mean it,” he added dramatically. “Vengeful spirits? Please. Child’s play. You? Terrifying.”

“Wait, vengeful spirits are real?” she asked, eyes wide.

He leaned in with a mischievous glint. “I have no clue. But if they are, I bet you could out-scowl them.”

Her hand inched closer on the floor, fingers grazing his. A tiny, almost shy movement. Wally didn’t hesitate. He slid his hand over hers, their fingers interlacing with the ease of coming home.

They sat in silence for a few moments, the tension slowly dissolving into something warmer. Quieter.

“How much did you hear?” she asked, her voice barely audible.

“Huh?”

“When you got to my scar,” she clarifies quietly, avoiding his gaze. “How much of that did you hear?”

“Quite a bit,” he admits. “I was trying to reach you while the cop advanced toward you, but I didn’t manage to break through on time.”

“You know…”

“That the scar played on your deepest regrets, despite none of it being your fault?” Wally interrupts gently, tightening his grip. “Yeah. I know. And so should you.”

She swallows hard. “Logically speaking, I know. My heart is still wracked with guilt. My sister didn’t know she was pregnant until the miscarriage. There’s no way to know if the antibiotics I prescribed caused it. I mean, miscarriages happen often for a myriad of reasons. I just hate the fact I could be one of those reasons.”

“But she’s fine, isn’t she? And she has three healthy daughters! Either way, your sister never blamed you. You need to stop blaming yourself….and your friend…You can’t save people who don’t want to be saved. You can’t carry all this on your shoulders.”

“I don’t,” she leans her head on his shoulder and Wally stiffens. It’s been so long since she allowed him to be this near, let alone initiated physical contact. But then he melted into it, his arm shifting around her waist.

“I’ve put down the weight of it all in the scar…that’s why the door opened, I think.”

“Your door is open,” his brow furrows. “As is mine.”

“Yeah.”

“But we’re here.”

“Yes.”

“Should we…?”

“Leave?” She looks up at him, fear evident in her eyes. “No. Not yet.”

“Why? Why are you so reluctant?”

“Because I don’t want to face what’s on the other side when there is a chasm between us. If there’s any chance we find each other in the afterlife, we can’t be this broken.”

He looked down at her. “You still love me.”

“I do.”

“Then trust that love. Trust it more than the fear.”

 “It’s a risk I’m not sure I’d be willing to take soon.”

“Y/N”, he pauses. “You need to stop thinking and start feeling. There is more to our love, than the mistakes I made.”

“I’ve never been that person,” she reminds him. “I overthink everything, so I’m sorry if me being worried losing you is too great of a risk to take. If you feel otherwise, then go ahead and walk through your door right now.”

“If losing me isn’t a risk you’re ready to take, then I’m not going anywhere,” he said, cupping her cheek. “I’d rather stay forever than leave you behind.”

She smirked faintly. “I’d have Xavier.”

His eyes narrowed. “Never say that to me again.”

“You were fine with Maddie,” she teased.

“Find less entertainment in my suffering, please.”

“If I had to show my crazy, you have to show yours.”

“I have shown mine,” he muttered. “Repeatedly.”

 “You’re so jealous of someone I call a friend, yet you thought I was crazy for being jealous over Maddie.” She laughed again, softer this time. Their foreheads brushed, and they stayed there, eyes closed, breathing in sync. “I like when you’re jealous.”

“Keep talking about staying here with Xavier and you’ll see how jealous I can get.”

Her lips hovered near his. She exhaled, long and trembling, like the air had been trapped in her lungs since the day they fell apart. “I love you.”

His heart stumbled. “Prove it,” he whispered, half a dare, half a plea.

She didn’t hesitate.

She moved forward, lips colliding with his in a kiss that was all heat, all ache, all release. It wasn’t gentle. It was months of silence, of distance, of longing, all of it spilling out in the way her hands cupped his jaw, the way she tilted her head to deepen the kiss, the way he gripped her waist like he might fall apart otherwise.

It tasted like tears and forgiveness, like second chances and unspoken promises.

When they finally pull apart, breathless and dazed, Wally presses his forehead to hers again.

“I missed this,” she whispers, voice shaking, barely holding herself together. “I missed you.”

“I’ve been here the whole time,” he replies softly, but there’s an edge to it, like he’s trying not to fall apart just hearing her say that. He was waiting for this, for her, holding on because his world is nothing if she’s not a part of it.

“I’m sorry I made you hurt while figuring things out.”

Wally kisses her again, just a soft brush of lips, like a punctuation mark at the end of her sentence. “All worth it in the end.”

She exhales shakily, curling her fingers into the fabric of his letterman jacket. “What do we do now?”

He opens his eyes, gaze flicking between hers. “Whatever you want.”

A slow smirk forms on her lips. “Dangerous thing to say to a woman who's been repressing all her emotions for months.”

“Yeah?” He grins back, brows raising. “You gonna cry on me or jump me?”

“Why not both?” she teases.

“Okay, now I’m scared,” he says, mock serious, but his hand slides around her waist again, pulling her close. “But like... in a hot way.”

Y/N laughs, full and bright, her forehead falling against his chest as she breathes him in. He still smells like summer grass after rain and old books. Whatever ghosts are made of, he smells unfairly good.

“I swear,” she murmurs against him, “if you’re secretly wearing cologne to seduce me, I’m going to throw you into a wall.”

“I’d never!” he gasps. “This is just my natural undead musk.”

“You’re disgusting,” she laughs, poking him in the ribs.

“You’re into it though.”

“Tragically, yes.”

His hand slides up her spine, slow and deliberate. Not hesitant, intentional. The heat starts again. Not frantic or urgent, but that familiar slow burn ache in her belly whenever he leans in closer. Their noses brush. She swears the room gets warmer.

“You know,” she murmurs, lips inches away from his, “we probably shouldn’t be making out in the middle of the hallway…”

“Oh absolutely not,” he agrees. “But ghosts have no rules, and also, this is the hottest make out session I’ve ever been part of.”

Their mouths meet again, deeper this time. Her fingers thread through his hair. He groans into the kiss, and it vibrates through her ribcage. The feel of him, the solid warmth of his body, the way his hand cups her jaw like she’s breakable and sacred all at once, it floods every corner of her.

“God, I forgot how good you are at this,” she gasps when they break for air. “This should be illegal.”

“Should be,” he pants. “But again…undead. We operate outside the law.”

They laugh, their bodies still tangled together, heat buzzing like static under their skin. It’s dizzying, the whiplash of tension turning to joy, of grief becoming comfort.

Y/N sobers a little, brushing his hair back from his face. “You really wouldn’t have gone without me?”

“I didn’t want to,” he says, the honesty naked in his voice. “I never want to.”

Her eyes soften, lips parting like she wants to say something more but can’t find the words. Instead, she cups his face and kisses him again. Slower. Deeper. Less frantic now, more certain.

They breathe each other in like they’ve been starving.

And maybe they have.

When they break apart, Wally murmurs, “You know what I want?”

She arches a brow. “What?”

“For us to haunt something together. Like real couple goals. That, or possess a vending machine and give out free snacks to grieving teens.”

She snorts. “You’re an idiot.”

“But I’m your idiot.”

She laughs again, because it’s ridiculous, and perfect, and somehow he's become the thing tethering her to hope.

He grins. “So what do you want?”

Y/N looks at him for a long moment. The way his eyes crinkle when he smiles. The way he’s still slightly out of breath. The way he’s willing to wait for her, even now.

“I want to figure it out with you,” she says finally. “Whatever that looks like. Whether it’s haunting lockers or slow dancing in abandoned classrooms.”

His grin grows wide and real. “Then we’ve got all the time in the afterlife, sweetheart.”

“No,” she pauses. “Not forever. A year at most. After a year, we walk through those doors, alright?”

Wally’s smile softens, and something in his eyes flickers, something like pride, like awe. He studies her face as if committing every detail to memory, the sound of her voice saying “a year” and her being willing to do this means everything to him.

Nodding, his plush lips curve in a small smile. “Let’s make it the best year of our lives.”

“Or afterlives,” she corrects, her mouth quirking up in a small smirk.

“Don’t ruin my moment,” he teases, brushing a knuckle down the line of her jaw, gentle as if any pressure would frighten her.

She leans into the touch instinctively, letting her eyes flutter close. The quiet between them isn’t awkward now, it’s full of tenderness. It’s electric. His fingers slide slowly into her hair, and hers rest just over his heart. They sit like that for a while, breathing the same borrowed air.

“I don’t want to go back to pretending you’re just a friend or stranger,” she whispers. “It was kind of hellish to be either.”

“You can’t, because I’m your boyfriend,” he murmurs, forehead pressing softly to hers. “Just because you distanced yourself from me and I missed you like a future I couldn’t reach, doesn’t mean I ever stopped being your boyfriend.”

Her breath catches, lips parting as her heart stumbles in her chest. “God, Wally...”

He doesn’t let her finish. His lips meet hers again, slower this time. Not desperate, devoted. The kind of kiss that says you’re mine, I see you, I’ll wait for you, even in this death.

Their mouths mold together in a rhythm only they understand, months of pain and longing unraveling in every brush of lips, every tilt of head. His hands explore her back in soft, reverent passes, reacquainting himself with the slope of her spine like a song he wants to hum for the rest of eternity.

She shifts, swinging one leg over his lap, straddling him with a confidence that makes his breath stutter. He pulls her closer without thinking, arms wrapped securely around her waist.

“You’re really sitting in my lap right now, huh?” he breathes against her neck, his voice low and rough with amusement.

“Ghost rules,” she shrugs, eyes glinting as she presses a kiss to his jaw. “No one can see us. No one cares.”

“You’re gonna kill me all over again,” he whispers, only half-joking.

“Little late for that,” she murmurs, her lips finding the soft skin just below his ear. He groans, head tipping back slightly, hands tightening on her hips.

Her name slips from his lips like a prayer, like gravity. Like he’s falling all over again and doesn’t want to stop.

“I don’t care if we’re dead,” she murmurs against his skin. “You still make me feel alive.”

That undoes him.

His hand cups the back of her neck as he kisses her again, deeper, hungrier now. Her fingers slide beneath the collar of his jacket, tracing the familiar lines of his shoulders. The tension, the grief, the weight of what-ifs, they all melt between their bodies, replaced by fire.

Eventually, their kisses slow, lips brushing lazily as they breathe each other in again and again. Her fingers trace idle lines on his chest. He draws small circles on her lower back, grounding himself in the feel of her.

“You know,” she says quietly, cheek resting against his shoulder now, “we really have to find a better make out spot. This floor is killing my knees.”

Wally laughs, the sound rumbling through both of them. “I’ve been dead for decades and this is still the most pain I’ve felt.”

“Romantic.”

“Tragic.”

They grin at each other.

“But seriously,” he says, brushing her hair from her eyes, “we can haunt-fuck in the art room. Or the music hall. Or the pool.”

“The pool?”

He wiggles his eyebrows. “Ever kissed underwater?”

She laughs, tilting her head. “Have you?”

“Almost,” he admits, scratching the back of his neck like he’s confessing a secret. “Kissed a few girls in there when I was alive…and Maddie.”

He barely finishes the name before she levels him with a slow, squinted glare. He coughs. “It was brief! Really brief. You know, back when I was dumb and hormonal and didn’t know you existed.”

“Mhm,” she hums, clearly not letting him off the hook.

“But,” he adds quickly, with a roguish smirk, “I am an excellent swimmer. Even as a ghost.”

She snorts, shaking her head. “That’s the dumbest flex I’ve ever heard.”

“You love it.”

“I really do.”

And as her smile stretches wide, radiant and real, Wally kisses her one more time, gentle, grateful, grounded in love that’s finally returned to him.

His hand cradles the side of her face as his thumb grazes the hollow of her cheek, the other sliding up her spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake. She melts into him with a shiver, her fingers tangling in the hem of his shirt before gripping the fabric like it’s the only thing tethering her to this world.

Her lips part just slightly, inviting him in deeper. And when his tongue brushes hers, tentative and seeking, she exhales sharply against his mouth.

He feels it, her surrender. Not just to him, but to this. To them.

When they finally break apart, lips tingling and breath tangled between them, her eyes flutter open, dazed and dark with want. She stands, leaving him confused.

“I really should find Xavier now,” she murmurs, breathless.

His brow knits, standing too. “Why the hell would you mention him now?”

“If you got to kiss Maddie in the pool,” she teases, dragging her fingers along the buttons of his jacket, “it’s only fair I find myself a ghost to kiss there first too.”

In seconds, Wally grabs her hips and pulls her flush against him, his mouth ghosting over the shell of her ear. “The only ghost you’re going to be kissing,” he growls, “is me.”

Her fingers slide into his hair, tugging just enough to make his breath hitch.

“Jealous again?” she whispers, her lips brushing his jaw.

“Always,” he breathes, his hands slipping under her shirt to splay against the small of her back. His palms are warm, solid, real. Despite everything, the way they feel together is undeniable.

She leans back enough to meet his eyes, her gaze searching, vulnerable. “Wally, do you think there is such a thing as forever in this between space we’re stuck in.”

His face softens, thumb brushing under her eye. “I do.” And he gets an idea.

“I don’t want this to just be passion and kisses and half-spoken promises. I need more than that. I need you to see me.”

“I do.” His voice is firm, unwavering. “I see every damn part of you, especially the ones you try hardest to hide. And I still want you.” And he will prove it to her.

Her breath catches, emotion pooling behind her eyes as she presses her forehead to his once again. “Then don’t let go. Not this time.”

“I wouldn’t even know how.”

Once he shows her what’s on his mind, she’ll understand.

He kisses her again, slower this time, savoring every second like it's something rare. Her question doesn’t leave his mind though and his idea is rummaging through every brain cell he has. There is only one way he remembers a forever was guaranteed, in life and death.

But when she pushes him gently back onto the floor and straddles him with a smirk and flushed cheeks, Wally can only stare, dumbstruck and absolutely gone for her, all thoughts leaving his mind.

“I thought you said this floor was killing your knees?” he rasps, breathless and grinning.

“It is,” she admits, leaning down until her lips brush his again. “But I want to kiss you again. Nothing really bothers me when your lips are on mine and your arms wrap around me.”

He exhales a laugh, head falling back in wonder. “Then I guess I better kiss you often.”

“You better.”

FINALE

[arc852]

Fault 3/3

Summary: Joel and Jimmy finally have that talk.

Warnings: self-blame, self-deprecation, slight anger and jealousy, and crying

Word Count: 4649

Part 1 | Part 2 | AO3 Link

Sorry this took so long! My brain has been mush when it's come to writing lately. But it's finally done! I hope you guys enjoy!

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 Tango kept the hand holding Jimmy close to his chest as his other hand curled around him in the front, blocking him from view. He walked down the hallway, doing his best to keep steady and being wary and mindful of his surroundings. His eyes were constantly looking around the hall, just waiting for someone’s door to open or for someone to round the corner. Thankfully, the hallway stayed empty as Tango completed the short journey to Grian and Joel’s door.

 After giving one last glance toward both ends of the hallway, he removed the hand curled around the front of Jimmy in order to use it to knock on the door. Though his hand quickly returned back to position right after. He looked down, sharing a small glance with Jimmy in the short time they were waiting for an answer. Jimmy smiled up at him and Tango couldn’t help but smile back.

 His eyes snapped back up to the door though as it opened to reveal Grian. “Oh, hey!” Grian said with a small smile.

 “Hey, Grian! I’m guessing Joel told you, I mean, it’d be weird if he didn’t, but I was hanging out with Jimmy and am just here to drop him back off.” Tango explained and then once again lifted his curled hand to reveal the borrower. Jimmy waved at Grian and Grian’s smile widened a bit more as he saw him. 

 “Yeah, Joel told me. You guys were gone for longer than I thought you’d be though. You guys have fun?” Grian asked though Tango knew the question was mostly directed at Jimmy. So Tango kept quiet as he let Jimmy answer.

 “Yeah! It was great!” Jimmy exclaimed. Tango could feel his heart warm at the confirmation that Jimmy had just as much fun as he had. He nodded along in agreement, once again letting his eyes wander down to Jimmy, looking at him fondly. 

 Movement, however, caught his attention and he looked back up to see Grian holding out his hand. Ah, right. He got the hint. He hesitated for only a moment before he carefully moved his own hand, the one holding Jimmy of course, up against Grian’s in order to give Jimmy the chance to swap hands. He watched as Jimmy stood, stumbling just slightly but quickly catching his balance, and walked onto Grian’s hand.

 Tango patiently waited, only taking his hand back once he was sure Jimmy was fully settled onto Grian’s. As he moved his hand back to his side, Grian gave him a strange look, an almost confused looking one. Tango blinked, having no idea what that kind of look could be for and feeling just as confused himself.

 He decided to ignore it, turning his attention back to Jimmy instead.

 “Thanks again for hanging out with me Jimmy.” Tango said with a hint of shyness in his smile, rubbing the back of his head. “It really was fun.”

 “We’ll have to do it again!” Jimmy said and once again Tango felt his chest warm again, feeling a bit lighter knowing Jimmy wanted to hang out with him again. Tango grinned as he felt himself bounce a bit at the thought.

 “Absolutely.” Tango agreed.

 “You’re welcome to come around any time, Tango.” Grian said as he moved the hand holding Jimmy close to his chest, mirroring the way Tango had been holding him just a moment ago. “Just give us a bit of warning first.”

 “Of course! I’ll shoot you guys a text if I ever feel like I need some Jimmy and me time.” Tango joked, which was followed by Jimmy laughing. Tango grinned, proud of himself for making Jimmy laugh like that.

 As Jimmy’s laughter died down, he looked back up at Tango. “And I’ll have Joel or Grian send a text if I feel the same.” He was grinning, following along with Tango’s joke, but like Tango, also being completely honest. 

 “Sounds like a plan then.” Tango said, shooting Jimmy with a single finger gun and a wink, which made Jimmy chuckle once again. Tango’s grin then lessened only slightly as he continued. “Good luck by the way, with the…ya know.” Tango said, being vague since he wasn’t sure if Jimmy wanted him to be the one to tell Grian about the talk Jimmy was planning on having with Joel or not.

 Grian looked between the two of them in confusion but Jimmy just nodded. “Thanks.” He said simply and Tango knew he was probably correct in not saying anything. He’s sure once Jimmy and Grian were in private that Jimmy would ask for his help and advice in going about it though.

 “Course.” He stuck his hands in his pockets and smiled. “Well, I better get going. I’ll see you later?” Tango still asked, maybe just wanting that little bit of extra confirmation even if he didn’t really need it.

 “See you later!” Jimmy said, excitement flickering in his eyes at the thought.

 “See you around.” Grian chimed in and Tango gave him a nod and a smile too.

 Tango backed away from the door as Grian made to close it. Sending one last wave to the two, though mostly Jimmy, right before the door closed fully. He let out a little happy sigh and was about to start walking back to his dorm before he paused, hearing footsteps behind him. He couldn’t help but turn back around, only to see none other than Joel round the corner. 

 They both froze as their eyes locked and Tango was suddenly reminded of the bit of hostility Joel had shown toward him earlier.

 Joel, meanwhile, as soon as he had seen Tango, tried his best to keep his face carefully neutral. Just because he knew what and why he was feeling the way he was, did not mean he was done with feeling them. No matter how much he didn’t want to feel it, he still felt that spark of jealousy rush through him at the sight of his friend. 

 Joel took a deep breath, trying his best to not let his feelings get the better of him this time. As he did so, his eyes wandered down from Tango’s face to his hands but they appeared to be empty. Considering he was at Joel’s door, he could only assume he had already dropped Jimmy off. Unless Jimmy was in Tango’s pocket, but Joel highly doubted that, what with the way Tango was currently hoodie-less.

 Joel looked back up to meet Tango’s eyes again, wincing as Tango’s eyes seemed to dart between him and the opposite end of the hall. Yeah, fair enough. But even still, Joel had to make things right. And not just with Jimmy. So, Joel was the first one to move, coming closer to both Tango and his door.

 “Tango.” Joel greeted with a nod, stopping only a few feet in front of Tango. He kept his voice low, not wanting Grian or Jimmy to overhear and open the door before he had a chance to talk with Tango a bit.

 Tango nodded back. “Joel.” He then titled his head. “What are you doing out here?” Tango asked. He had been under the impression that he was inside the dorm already, though he supposed it made sense now that Grian was the one to open the door.

 Joel simply shrugged. “Needed a walk.” He mumbled a bit, turning his gaze away for a moment. He had been hoping to be back before Tango dropped Jimmy off, but the walk had been good for him and he’s sure this talk would be too. He just…had to get himself to the actual talking part. He flicked his eyes back toward Tango.

 “I’m…sorry. About earlier.” Joel said, watching closely as Tango’s eyes widened a bit, not having expected the apology. It looked as though Tango wanted to say something but Joel continued before Tango could, wanting to finish the apology first. “I was angry and-and scared. And…maybe a bit jealous too,” he mumbled that bit more to himself, though Tango still clearly heard it. “But I shouldn’t have acted that way toward you either way. So…yeah. Sorry.” He finished lamely.

 His gaze had drifted to looking at anything other than Tango when he started speaking, afraid of how Tango might react to his apology. A hand suddenly came down onto his shoulder, causing Joel to jump and finally drift his gaze back up to Tango’s face. Joel looked at Tango with wide eyes but felt relieved to see a soft smile had settled on Tango’s features. “Hey, I’m not saying this excuses all that but…I get it dude. Trust me.” Tango said before letting his smile grow a bit more. “And I forgive you.”

 Joel…had honestly not expected to be forgiven so easily. Especially with such a bad apology. But Tango didn’t seem like he was lying. Well, if that was the case, this went way better than he thought it was going to. Hopefully that was foreshadowing for his talk with Jimmy. “Thanks.” Joel said after a moment, letting himself smile back at Tango. 

 “Dude, of course. You’re my friend and clearly going through something. Of course I’m gonna forgive you.” Tango said before taking his hand off of Joel’s shoulder. “Maybe just ease up on the snappiness next time?”

 Joel winced but nodded. “Yeah, no, totally.” He could do that.

 Tango nodded. “Then we’re all good.” 

 Man, Joel had the best friends a guy like him could want, huh?

 Grian, Jimmy, Impulse and Tango, they were all there for him in different ways and maybe Joel was just now fully realizing that. Speaking of Impulse though, Joel reminded himself of his earlier conversation with him. “Hey uh, I actually ran into Impulse while I was out walking. He said we should plan to hang out, the four of us. Would uh, would you be…down?”

 Tango grinned. “Yeah man, that sounds fun!”

 Joel smiled, why had he been so nervous to ask? “We’ll have to text about it later then.” He was looking forward to it, the four of them hanging out. It…would be nice if Jimmy could join them, but obviously that probably wouldn’t be happening any time soon.

  Joel glanced over at his door, his smile fading a bit as he realized it was probably time to head in. He sighed. “Well…I better get in there. I have a uh…a talk I gotta have with Jimmy.”

 Tango’s eyes widened, surprised but happy that Joel seemed to be taking the initiative to speak with Jimmy about how he’s been acting. At least, that’s what Tango’s assuming the talk is going to be about. He’ll have to ask Jimmy about it later, but he’s pretty sure considering Joel had already taken the initiative with Tango himself. Tango smiled.

 “Good luck.” Tango said. “But I don’t think you’ll need it.”

 Joel hummed, a lot of thoughts circling in his head. “You think?”

 Tango shrugged. “I know.”

 Joel bit his lip, not knowing how Tango could possibly know. “How?” He asked and Tango raised his eyebrow, sending him a look.

 “Cause it’s Jimmy.” Tango said and oh. Yeah. Tango did actually have a point there. At the very least, it made Joel feel a bit better about all this. 

 “Right.” He said. “Right.” This was Jimmy and he knew Jimmy. Things would be okay. He just had to keep telling himself that. “I’ll catch you later then.” 

 “See ya.” Tango said with a little wave before turning around and heading back to his dorm. Joel watched him go for a moment, but didn’t wait for Tango to turn the corner before unlocking his door and heading inside.

 As he closed the door behind him, his ears perked up at the sound of a few hushed voices. He turned around and scanned the room, only to see Grian and Jimmy at Grian’s desk. Grian was leaned back in his chair, his laptop open but pushed back to give Jimmy room to stand where the laptop had once been. They appeared to be talking, but when Joel walked a bit further into the room they paused and looked over at him. 

 Well, now Joel just felt awkward.

 Grian gave Joel a little head nod in greeting before turning back to Jimmy. “Don’t worry, everything will be fine.” He said before pushing off the desk and standing up. He walked past Joel, Joel moving out of the way when he realized Grian was heading for the door.

 Joel glanced over at Jimmy and then back to Grian, confused in more ways than one. “Where are you going?” Joel asked, but Grian just shrugged, a small smile on his face.

 “Just giving you two some privacy.” Was all Grian said before he was gone. Joel hearing the lock click into place.

 “Right…” Joel muttered to himself. He had half expected Grian to stick around for Joel’s talk with Jimmy, Grian could be nosy like that sometimes. But he was glad Grian decided to leave it to them this time. He mentally braced himself before turning to look back at Jimmy. He was still in the same spot, looking up at Joel with eyes filled with what seemed to be…determination? Weird.

 Joel took in a deep breath, psyching himself up for this. He took a few steps closer, until he was right up against Grian’s chair. He gripped the top of it to ground himself and was just about to open his mouth and start talking when, surprisingly, Jimmy beat him to it.

 “Joel…what’s been going on with you lately?” Jimmy asked, not unkindly but Joel couldn’t help but tense up anyway. “Because you’ve just seemed kind of…off lately.” Jimmy continued. Joel wanted to cover his face in his hands and groan and had to fight the urge to do so. Was he just…that obvious? At the very least he thought he was doing a good job of hiding it from Jimmy. But apparently not. And that just made him feel even worse.

 Joel let out a deep sigh. At least Jimmy bringing it up first gave him a good place to start. “That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.” Joel said and suddenly he couldn’t look into Jimmy’s eyes anymore. “I…I’m sorry.”

 Jimmy blinked, looking confused all of a sudden. “You’re sorry? For what?”

 Joel winced. “For what happened. For not…for letting you fall out of my pocket.” Joel said, his grip around the back of Grian’s chair becoming tighter. He let his eyes wander back to the borrower, too curious of Jimmy’s reaction. When he saw that Jimmy’s eyes were wide with what Joel could only assume was surprise, well, Joel couldn’t say he had been expecting that.

 “For letting me-what? Joel, you didn’t let anything happen, it was an accident!” Jimmy exclaimed, raising his hands up as he did. His hands quickly fell and Jimmy’s wide-eyed expression grew softer, sadder. “You do know that right? That it wasn’t your fault.”

 Joel was silent. He couldn’t very well answer that the way Jimmy wanted him to without lying.

 Jimmy seemed to deflate at his silence. “Joel…” 

 “It’s hard to see how it isn’t my fault.” Joel said after a few moments of silence had passed. Joel had done everything wrong. He hadn’t been careful, he had been going too fast, he hadn’t had his hand in the pocket with Jimmy…Everything pointed to him being the one at fault for what had happened.

 Jimmy looked at Joel sadly, mind racing for something he could do. As the idea came to him, he stood up straighter, his determination back like a fire. “Joel.” Jimmy said in order to gain back Joel’s attention. As soon as the human’s eyes were back on him, Jimmy continued. “Come here.” Jimmy practically ordered. Joel blinked, taken aback by the sudden command but he obeyed. Stepping around the chair and coming right up next to the desk, looming over Jimmy in a way that Joel usually tried to avoid nowadays.

 Jimmy nodded at him but he was far from done. “Hand.” Jimmy said next, pointing to right in front of him. Joel was still trying to figure out where this was going but he laid his hand flat at where Jimmy had pointed anyway, his palm up. As soon as his hand had come to a stop, Jimmy wasted no time climbing up and onto Joel’s hand. He took a seat in the center of Joel’s palm before looking back up at him. “Up.”

 Joel couldn’t help the deadpan look and the slight curve of his lips even as he did what Jimmy asked. “I’m not a dog you know.” Joel said quietly, just a hint of his usual sarcasm. Jimmy also let his lips curve into a brief smile before his features schooled back into his look of determination. Joel brought him up, making sure his hand was as steady as ever before stopping at chest level. But it seemed like that wasn’t enough.

 “Higher.” Jimmy said, still pointing up. Joel did so, bringing his hand to eye level. “Now closer.” Jimmy said and Joel was getting increasingly more and more confused about what the heck Jimmy was doing. But he continued to do as Jimmy said. He brought Jimmy closer to his face and paused when any closer would have Jimmy actually touching his face.

 Though that seemed to be exactly Jimmy’s plan.

 As soon as he stopped his hand, Jimmy stood up and went forward, gripping the top sides of his nose. The sudden closeness of the borrower forced Joel to look at him cross-eyed and caused him to tense, not expecting Jimmy to do something like that. He was afraid that one wrong twitch would have Jimmy falling so he carefully moved his other hand underneath the one holding Jimmy, just in case. “J-Jimmy?” Joel stuttered out, wondering what the heck the borrower was doing.

 He could feel the slight pressure on his nose increase just a bit more as Jimmy looked him right in the eyes. “It wasn’t your fault.” Jimmy said sternly, his tone leaving no room for arguments.

 Joel tried anyway. “But-”

 “Nope,” Jimmy cut him off. “It wasn’t your fault and I don’t blame you for it. Of course I don’t blame you for it, it was an accident.” Jimmy’s expression turned sad once more, though his determination hadn’t gone away either. “And I’m fine. Everything worked out and nothing too bad actually happened.”

 Joel couldn’t help but look away, huffing a bit. Though it was hard when he couldn’t move his head and Jimmy was literally taking up almost his entire vision. “Only because of Tango…” Joel muttered. But of course, Jimmy heard it and it caused his previous look of confusion to come back.

 “Wait, what?” Jimmy asked. He briefly leaned back due to his confusion but very quickly went back and leaned in even closer, forcing Joel to look back at him again. “What about Tango?”

 What about Tango? Did Jimmy not see it? The fact that Tango was the whole reason Jimmy was even okay in the first place? “Come on, Jim. The only reason ‘nothing too bad’ even happened was because Tango was there to save you.” Joel said, a lot more snappy than he had wanted.

 Jimmy blinked and the fact that Joel was making Jimmy so confused was starting to get to him a bit. “And you’re…upset with Tango because of that?” Okay, when Jimmy said it like that it really didn’t make any sense. No wonder Jimmy was so confused.

 Joel winced and sighed and if Jimmy wasn’t right up on his face he would have used his free hand to rub at his face. “No. Yes? It’s…complicated?” Joel was doing a terrible job explaining this so far. “...That was one of the other things I wanted to bring up, actually.” 

 In order to continue talking properly though, he needed Jimmy not so close to his face. So, carefully, he brought his free hand up and pinched Jimmy’s sides. He didn’t use the pinched grip to lift him though, just to move him away from his face and back into the center of his palm. Jimmy tensed slightly as Joel’s fingers pinched him but otherwise he simply let it happen. As soon as Jimmy was away from his face, he let go of his pinched grip and then brought his hand farther down so it was resting back at chest level.

 “There’s…a lot more I have to bring up too.” Joel said, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. “I ran into Impulse earlier and he helped me figure out what to say but it’s still…hard.” He finished lamely before sighing again. “But yeah, I think I’ve been feeling a bit…jealous lately. Of Tango.”

 “Jealous? Because he was the one who saved me?” Jimmy asked, still looking just as confused as he sounded. Joel shrugged.

 “I mean, yeah…” Joel groaned and shook his head. Why were feelings so hard to explain? “But also like today, you wanted to hang out with him. And…and maybe it was my fault for assuming, but I really thought you would say no to him? Because of what happened? And when you didn’t, I just…I don’t know. I was upset.”

 “...I did notice that you didn’t seem to want me to go with Tango.” Jimmy said after a moment.

 Joel winced. Yet another thing he hadn’t hid as well as he thought he had. “I’m sorry.” Gosh, why was he so bad at this? “But that’s not all of it. I’ve been mad at myself because I blame myself for what happened, I’ve been jealous of Tango for being the one to save you, but I’ve also been…” Joel trailed off, looking away.

 Jimmy stood up in Joel’s palm, which caused Joel’s eyes to flick back over to him. His other hand was already coming up close just in case Jimmy lost his balance. “Also been what?” Jimmy asked, his voice soft, inviting Joel to continue.

 Joel let out a small sigh. “I’ve been…scared. Scared of you being hurt or worse, and…and scared of you leaving.”

 “Leaving?” Jimmy’s eyes were wide again. “Joel, I wouldn’t-”

 “But you could.” And oh, saying it out loud was causing a few tears to leak from Joel’s eyes. “I-I couldn’t even blame you if you did. I should be able to keep you safe and yet you fell out of my pocket and almost died. You fell into a glue trap and almost died. I can’t…obviously I can’t protect you, so why would you even stay if I’m just putting you in danger?” Joel was full on crying now, angry tears streaming down his face. He didn’t want to say these words, didn’t want to believe them. But it was so hard to see them as lies.

 “Joel-”

 Joel shook his head, cutting off Jimmy without even really meaning to, so lost in his own self-blame. “I-I’ve messed up so much that I shouldn’t even really be holding you right now. I shouldn’t be-” Joel cut himself off as he realized he didn’t even feel worthy enough to hold Jimmy anymore. He tried to lower his hands back down to the desk, intent on letting Jimmy off.

 “Joel Beans, don't you dare put me down.” Jimmy said and Joel froze, staring down at Jimmy with wide tear filled eyes.

 Silence filled the room as Jimmy took a deep breath, processing everything Joel had just said. Joel couldn’t help but feel like he had messed this talk up. He was supposed to be telling Jimmy how he felt, which he supposed he was, but calmly and rationally. Not letting his emotions get the best of him. Not letting his own insecurities and fears win again.

 He felt another apology on the tip of his tongue but before he could say it out loud, Jimmy spoke, breaking the silence first. “Joel, I trust you completely.” Jimmy said, surprising Joel. Out of everything, he certainly wasn’t expecting Jimmy to start with that. “You’ve earned my trust over these last few months. At this point I don’t even think-no, I know you would never do anything that would make me want to leave. Ever.”

 Joel bit his lip, trying to focus on Jimmy’s words, but his mind kept swirling around those same anxieties. “But just two days ago I almost hurt-”

 “No.” Jimmy said, cutting off Joel before he could start spiralling again. Joel’s mouth snapped closed. “You didn’t do anything. I almost got hurt, yes, but you didn’t do anything.” Jimmy’s hardened gaze softened. “Joel, it wasn’t your fault. It was just a series of accidents that happened to end with me on the floor. I don’t blame you at all for it.” Jimmy’s eyes went sad as he stared right into Joel’s eyes. “So I wish you would stop blaming yourself.”

 “I-”

 Jimmy cut him off again. “And before you bring up the glue trap, that definitely wasn’t your fault. You had no idea and I was the one who walked right into it.”

 “But I feel like I’ve been failing to protect you.” Joel said, his shoulders tense but his hands never wavering in their steadiness. 

 Jimmy shook his head. “No, Joel, you haven’t failed at anything. You protect me when I most need it. You…you might not be able to  protect me all the time, but that has nothing to do with what you think is failing.” Jimmy reached out and grabbed hold of one of Joel’s fingers, hoping it would help ground Joel, even just a little bit. Joel let out a little gasp but didn’t try to pull his finger away.  

 “Joel?” Jimmy spoke again when Joel didn’t say anything. That gained him back Joel’s wavering attention due to his thoughts. “Can you lift me up higher again?”

 Joel blinked, a few more tears escaping as he did so, but nodded and carefully lifted his hand so that Jimmy was eye level with him again. Jimmy let go of Joel’s finger in favor of touching Joel’s face again. He reached over to below Joel’s eye and wiped a tear away, uncaring that his hand was now soaked. “I trust you.” Jimmy said, staring right in Joel’s eyes, not a hint of hesitation in his features. “I trust you and I’m not leaving and I don’t blame you for anything.” Jimmy repeated, tilting his head and giving Joel a soft smile as he did so. “Okay?”

 Doubt still circled around in Joel’s mind. But seeing Jimmy so earnestly tell him it wasn’t his fault, that he was trusted, well…Joel couldn’t help but believe Jimmy. And he knew, deep down, that that bit of doubt would never leave. There would always be things that Joel would blame himself for, especially when it came to Jimmy. But, at least for now, he felt like he could deal with it. With Jimmy’s help, at least.

 “Okay.” Joel said, his voice as soft as Jimmy’s smile.

 “Good.”

 It was silent for a moment.

 “So…are you feeling any better?” Jimmy asked, his grin urging for the answer to be a yes. He leaned further against Joel’s face, causing Joel’s nose to twitch a little.

 Joel couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the look Jimmy was giving him. “I guess.” Joel groaned out. He poked at Jimmy’s side gently, making sure there was no real strength to the poke. Jimmy remained steady leaning against Joel’s face. “You couldn’t just let me wallow in my own self-blame, huh?”

 “Joel…”

 Joel sighed. “I know, I know.” He paused for a moment. “Serious answer is I will be.”

 Jimmy sighed but smiled softly. “Well, I’ll be here to keep reminding you then.”

 Joel smiled back. “Yeah. Yeah you will be.”

[yunaversalluv]

FOR MY LOVELY @valeisaslut HERE IS THE PART 2 EPILOUGE DEEP-DIVE ( THIS IS PART TWO OF THIS DEEP - DIVE CAUSE IT WAS TOO BIG FOR TUMBLR)

PART V: LINGUISTIC PRECISION & EMOTIONAL LEXICON

- The Power of Monosyllables

Many of Ellie’s lines are clipped, one-syllable, or spare. There’s a reason:

“Didn’t ask you to.”

“You’re late.”

“Didn’t want this.”

These aren’t just curt. They’re protective syntax. This is a linguistic survival strategy — short words keep emotions at bay. The fewer syllables, the less room for vulnerability to leak in.

Interpretation: Ellie isn’t being cold — she’s limiting the number of exits her pain has. She’s constructing walls in real-time with punctuation.

- The Absence of Metaphor = Bleakness

Ellie’s inner world is devoid of lyricism until the very end (“the dream... had burned to ashes”). Why?

Because metaphor requires imagination — and imagination requires hope. The lack of it mirrors a world gone grayscale.

Only once she chooses to move, does metaphor return. You’re signaling this subconsciously: language blooms after choice.

PART VI: TRAUMA PHYSIOLOGY IN THE SCENE

Dissecting Ellie’s physicality as textbook trauma behavior, which you’ve intuitively rendered with emotional accuracy.

- Dissociation:

“She didn’t feel real.”

Classic trauma response. The mind detaches from the body when emotional overload hits.

The hoodie detail (comfort object), the mechanical heartbeat, the ghostprint — all signs of her watching herself from outside her body.

She’s not suicidal. She’s post-suicidal. This is the realm beyond ideation — where the mind’s only priority is stillness, even at the cost of life.

- Haptic Avoidance:

“Didn’t curl around him.”

The inability to reciprocate physical contact is not a lack of affection, but an autonomic freeze.

Touch = intimacy = danger.

Even Jesse and Dina don’t reach for her until she reaches first. That’s a phenomenal detail — it's not written, but it’s felt.

PART VII: STRUCTURAL ENGINEERING — HOW THE SCENE MOVES

This scene doesn’t just happen. It spirals inwards before cracking open. Here’s the architecture:

1. Collapse

Ellie is inert. There’s no emotional engine left running. We start from maximum stasis.

2. Disruption

Joel arrives — not as savior, but as interruptor. This breaks the cycle. She is no longer alone with her pain.

A quiet room can be comforting — until someone else enters it and you realize how loud your silence was.

3. Friction

They don’t harmonize. This is not a moment of mutual clarity. It’s jagged, uneven, full of frayed wires.

4. Volcanic Pulse

“I should’ve died.”

This is the emotional apex — a raw truth that neither party can clean up.

You drop this line like a detonation. You don’t explain it, contextualize it, or soften it. And that’s exactly right.

5. Deflation

Joel doesn’t fight it. This is crucial. He doesn’t offer clichés or redemptive speeches. He simply says:

“Still here.”

Like gravity itself — inescapable, unglamorous, but real.

6. The Microchoice

Ellie doesn’t declare her will to live. She stands up. And that’s enough.

PART VIII: HIDDEN MOTIFS & ECHOES

Let’s pull apart recurring motifs across this scene — things your subconscious may have planted, and which can now be developed thematically:

1. Mirroring Without Matching

No one in the scene mirrors Ellie’s pain with the same energy — and that’s what saves her.

Joel doesn’t break down. He stays still.

Jesse and Dina don’t perform empathy. They offer presence.

Lesson: Grief isn’t healed through matching intensity. It’s stabilized through contrast.

2. The Sacredness of the Mundane

The hoodie zipper. The blanket. The door opening.

These aren’t just practical items — they are altars of reality. Proof that time still exists.

You’re leveraging the mundane as spiritual intervention — which is how trauma healing often actually begins.

3. Soundlessness as Elegy

This scene has almost no auditory detail — no music, no external sounds. It’s like you’ve hit the mute button on the universe.

That makes sense: when someone is spiraling internally, the outer world fades out. You’ve scored silence into the text — and it works like a knife.

YUNA'S MEGA-SUMMARY: ELLIE’S COLLAPSE, CHOICE, AND THE LANGUAGE OF ENDINGS

This scene captures the slow implosion of a person—not through violence, but through inertia. Ellie is not screaming, crying, or thrashing. She is quietly vanishing.

The true heartbreak isn’t that she’s broken. It’s that she almost doesn’t care.

Her collapse isn’t cinematic—it’s cellular.

At its center, the scene is about post-traumatic freeze. Ellie’s not processing pain anymore—she’s suspended in it.

She doesn’t want to die, exactly. She just doesn’t want to be. That’s what makes this moment different from a classic suicidal beat: there’s no cry for help, no drama. Just emptiness with edges.

Her mind is a vacuum. Her body a ghostprint. Her name barely hers.

And that’s the scariest place to be.

You use language like a scalpel. Every line is economical, sharp, and unfinished—like Ellie herself.

Short, clipped phrases: a survival mechanism.

No metaphor at first: imagination has shut down.

Physical withdrawal: the body says “no” before the mouth does.

You don’t need to say “Ellie is traumatized.” The syntax is the trauma.

The scene isn’t about a fix. It’s about witnessing.

Joel doesn’t save her. He stays.

Jesse doesn’t preach. He pleads.

Dina doesn’t cry. She offers quiet presence.

Everyone meets Ellie where she is—not where they wish she were. And that restraint is where the emotional devastation (and healing) lives.

This is a non-rescue rescue.

The emotional flow is crafted like a spiral inward, then a single outward breath:

Stillness → She is unreachable. Beyond numb.

Friction → Joel arrives. The past reenters the room.

Crack → Ellie says it: “I should’ve died.”

Stasis → No rebuttal. Just grief’s gravity.

Movement → She stands. No speeches. Just breath.

That stand is everything. It’s not hope—it’s motion. And sometimes, motion is all that saves us.

“The tour was over. The music had stopped.”

This is the eulogy for her old self. Not just her career, not just the band—but the girl who believed this dream would save her.

The line isn’t just about music—it’s about grief. And in this silence, the next version of Ellie is born.

Let’s bring in one final, deeper reading:

This scene isn’t just about Ellie falling apart. It’s about her choosing, even in that state, not to disappear.

The fact that she stands up?

Not because she believes it’ll get better.

Not because someone convinced her.

But because some ember of her—some primal animal self—still says:

“Move.”

And that? That’s survival. That’s character. That’s your scene's heartbeat.

You’ve written something unsparing, deeply emotional, and honest to the marrow. It resists easy redemption and rewards emotional attention.

This is the kind of writing that doesn’t just show pain—it maps it, so that what comes after can feel earned.

It’s a funeral of self. And the quiet miracle is that Ellie still breathes at the end of it.

COUGH COUGH (I hope you know I had to write this while animal crossing noises came from my keyboard and my fiancé on the bed sick watching me furiously typing away in like full uninterrupted dedication.

HAVE A WONDERFUL NIGHT/DAY VALL <3

[imsofinnacrashout]

The Gilded Cage and the Serpent’s Kiss

Ellie Williams x Fem reader

Summary: Ellie and reader go into the games with the fault that who will win, who will live, who dies and who will tell the story.

Part I: Seeds of Rebellion

Chapter 1: The Offering

The treaty rolled back to when my great-great-great-grandparents were alive, a pretty long time, huh? Not long enough, I was turning eighteen today. When I was born, when every baby was born, the parents had to sign a treaty to accept their kids into the games. Dad won the games when he was eighteen, he was now forty-one. He told me it was for Tommy since Tommy got picked to enter, so he volunteered to do it for him, but since I was the only child, I had to go even if I didn't want to. Tommy was my uncle, the best, to say the least.

“Y/n, get up, the reaping is today!” Dad called out for me to get up, and I got up and grabbed the dress Ellie's mom had made for me. Ellie and I were inseparable ever since mom died she was there and ever since her dad abandoned her and her mom for ellie being a ‘dyke’ as he would say i was there for her. We were the best of friends, but I thought of her more than that, hoping she felt the same. I slipped the pretty floral Miami-bound blue sundress as I slipped my ballerina flats on. Walking outside of my room as I entered the bathroom to fix my hair, clipping it into a French barrette that was my mom’s. Dad came up to me.

“You look just like your mother, munch,” Dad says with a warm smile, as I return the smile as he puts on a mockingbird necklace on me. My parents gave me that nickname because, according to my whole family, I knew how to eat and I wasnt a picky eater, that I’d eat anything, which was still true.

“Dad, whose necklace is this?” I asked, looking up at him, waiting for his response.

“Your mom’s,” he said he got ready as we went to the reaping with Ellie and her mom.

“You look beautiful, angel,” Ellie compliments me as I blush, thanking her. I took in her appearance, she had on dress pants and her black converse with a shirt her mom tailored for her.

“Wow, I can't believe you finally wore something other than your jeans and hoodies,” I teased as I hugged her before we went inside the reaping, praying I didn't get in, neither did she.

“Welcome to the 25th Hunger Games!” the escort said with a smile. How could she be smiling?

“We will be changing this up this year! There will be 2 girls and 2 boys from each district!” the escort says. My heart dropped to the ground, my eyes wide, I glanced at Ellie, who was standing next to me.

“And each district will have a mentor from the capitol,” she announces. Great this shit show will be beneficial for them.

“From district 1, Dina Baker, Desarose Emille for the girls, now for the gentlemen, it will be Harvey Green and Damon Bennett. For district 2, it will be Sienna Rogers and Abby Anderson, for the boys, Midas Thompson and Odysseus Fisher. For the district 3 Circuit Bellweather and Tesla Gear, and the boys, Volt Tinker and Binary Bolt, for District 4, the girls, Coral Reef and Marina Tide, and the boys, Finn Mariner and Caspian Wave, for District 5, Ember Spark and Radiant Volt and the boys Ignis Flare and Zephyr Current. For District 6, Velocity Swift and Jetta Rail, and the boys Axel Gearshift and Pilot Ryder, for District 7, Willow Bark and Hazel Wood, and the boys Silas Branch and Forrest Timber, for District 8, Indigo Weave and Scarlett Thread, and the boys Loomis Spool and Tanner Hide.For District 9, Harvest Rye and Avena Field, and the boys Barley Seed and Flint Wills. For District 10, Daisy Meadow and Liv Stockman, and the boys Angus Herd and Clay Hoof. For District 11, Clementine Grove and Briar Thorn, and for the boys, Rowan Seedling and Cyrus Bloom, for District 12, Y/n Miller and Ellie Williams, and the boys, Jesse McMillan and Ash Driller.” as she finishes announcing the names my heart drops not only am I in the games so is Ellie. We walk up to the stand as I look at my dad in fear.

The soldiers took us to a room that Ellie and I shared, so we could say goodbye to family members. As I see my dad come in, I hug him tightly.

“Dad, I'm scared, I don't want to do this, I can't-” I said, panicked tears falling down my face

“Baby girl, you have to, im sorry, I love you with all of my heart, don't ever take this off, okay, I love you so so much,” he said as he wipes my tears, hugging me tighter. They dragged my dad out as I cried.

They took us to the train so we could drive to the arena. We were going to be human entertainment that sick asshole. Ellie and I saw Jesse and Ash talking to our mentor. I walked up to them, Ellie following soon after. “Im Silas, your mentor,” he said as I spoke

“Where are you from? The capitol?” he shook his head

“District 12,” he spoke as I scoffed

“You're a liar,” I said as he shook his head again

“Im not. I won the 2nd game when I was sixteen. And was your father’s mentor when he was a tribute,” he stated

“What?” I uttered as he nodded

“How many people can win?” Ash asked with urgency as Silas just shrugged. The escort named Aurelia showed all four of us our stylists

“This is your stylist, Lumiere, Jesse,” she tells Jesse with her strong British accent, as she reaches to ash

“Ash, this is your stylist, Rhapsody,” she said, reaching out to me and Ellie

“Ellie, this is your stylist, Silhouette,” she told her, finally reaching towards me

“Y/n, this is your stylist, Glimmer,” she told me as I glanced at my stylist, she was beautiful to say the least.

“Why do we need a stylist?” I asked as Aurelia turned to face me

“Well, for the events, of course,” she answered

“What events?” Jesse asked

“Go off shoo to bed. You kids have a long day tomorrow,” she said, cutting the conversation. We went off to bed, but as I went inside my room, Ellie slipped inside as well

“Ellie, you have your room. Is everything ok?” I asked as she grabbed my face, kissing me, I grabbed her face, kissing her deeper before pulling back.

“Wait, why did you just kiss me?” I asked

“Because I love you, Y/n, from the moment I saw you, I’ve loved you,” Ellie confessed as my face heated up

“You mean it?” I asked

“Of course I do,” she said as we kissed again, moving to my bed, making out as she moved lower to my neck as i pulled back

“Ellie, we shouldn't not here” I vocalized

“Why not?” she asked

“When we’re alone, I promise you, but not now, not here” i told her as she nodded

“Be my girlfriend,” she asked as I nodded in joy as she went back to her room. I changed into a nightgown left for me on a mirror as I got into bed to sleep.

[roseofithaca]

What I love about Ghosts is how much of a slow burn the enemies to found family is. Yes there's a pretty big leap from "tried to kill her" to "forced allies of convenience" in the first two episodes, there needs to be to set up the premise, but after that there's such a gradual build up to a real cosy feel in the group.

It would have been so easy to have this dynamic reach its peak by the end of S1. There's a few soft moments like Alison talking to Pat's family and the Friends sofa bit outside but only after Pat explains to her how important the moonah ritual is to Robin. But it's not enough to make them that close yet and in the finale the ghosts mostly want Alison to stay for their own convenience, except Kitty and Thomas, with Fanny only just beginning to accept Alison is part of her bloodline. Captain still wants them gone but concedes to help them stay more for the others. Alison is touched by the gesture of the jewel but still admits that it's a nightmare living with them and wants to leave - and only stays because Captain screws her over via manipulating Kitty.

S2 starts with her waking up and sighing about how she's still "living the dream" (aka her nightmare). However, so we're not quite on the same page as last season, she has now established a routine with the ghosts and knows what each of them need. There's a feeling of comfort beginning to creep its way in, even if they still annoy her. And they're still not willing to help her at the drop of a hat, especially Julian unless he can get something in return, and some will go as far as to work against her when she's trying to make the house look haunted. Had the Grey Lady episode took place in S5 you know they would have all jumped at the chance to help Alison whatever she asked. But this series has a lot more episode focused on Alison connecting with the group like learning about how Thomas died and the Captain's past and Kitty's kinda sad childhood, so it feels natural and heartwarming when they all come together to help protect the house from burglars for her and she appreciates out loud how they're not as selfish as when she first came there. And they all do what they can to help with the wedding, partly for it to be a success for Alison but also just to help. Honestly on my first watch, with the snow and everything, I thought that was the Christmas special! So it lead in nicely to the actual one. Because the gang are finally at the stage where Alison would be comfortable spending Christmas with them and they all come together to sing with her to make her happy, even Robin who thinks Christmas is just a recent fad.

Series 3 is where that leap from friends to family happens and is contrasted with Alison thinking she's found a long lost blood relative, which she confesses is something she's wanted as she never had a lot of family around her. I like that they didn't have Lucy be her actual sister that turned out to be a villain, as we already have an abusive sister with Eleanor, but it still serves as a parallel between her and Kitty to make Alison realise that she has found a sister, and more. Robin saying "welcome home" and the look on Alison's face is enough to let us know this is no longer just a project for her with some annoying pests to deal with. And the final shot of them all "eating" together is one of my favorites.

The show could have easily ended there if it wanted to. Or it could have gone on another two seasons with everything being perfect and wholesome. But it doesn't; because families are not perfect. We still have an episode centered around the ghosts trying to apologise for upsetting Alison, much like a bunch of kids with an overworked mother, and they want to make it up to her not for their benefits but because of what she means to them. Episode 2 also has Alison missing feeling needed by the ghosts when they're busy doing their own thing and realising she just wants to spend time with them, even if it's just something as simple as a walk with Robin. And when Mary passes on, Alison is absolutely devastated and puts aside her work duties to prioritise helping the other ghosts grieve. Then there's her joining (evil) forces with Julian to take on Barclay together. And the series ends with Robin, who began the show just enjoying scaring the shit out of Alison for the lulz, confronting his ten thousand years old ptsd and taking a bolt of lightning to save her husband.

That's four years of development. Compare this to the CBS version where they all click together a lot faster and we don't see nearly as much of Sam losing her temper with the ghosts, and plots always seem to be wrapped up so much quicker (the fact there was no apology from Thor for possessing her still irks me). This isn't necessarily a knock against the American version, their episodes are ten minutes shorter because of ads, and it's more of a style choice as well as Sam just being a far more patient character than Alison. I know a lot of people prefer that the show begins a lot more wholesome to start with so it's down to taste. For me the heartwarming moments mean so much more when they've been earned over a lot of struggle.

Take the climax of Series 5. It's one of the few moments of TV that have made me gasp out loud. I genuinely forgot that we never saw Alison find out Julian pushed her. I guess I assumed she found out off screen or worked it out when she realised Julian's ghost power. But it really was the perfect point for her to find out; because had it happened any earlier then she wouldn't have hesitated to leave with no amount of speech able to change her mind, and likewise Julian wouldn't have had anything to say to her. But as someone else pointed out, it's much more difficult to forgive someone you love for doing something truly evil, even if at the time you were less than strangers. It's a crushing betrayal for Alison to find out that someone she thought as family once tried to kill her but also that the rest of them kept it secret. There's no obligation or pressure for her to forgive them; but she chooses to, because it's been earned over more than three years. And to parallel the S1 finale, the other ghosts are desperate for her to stay (including Cap this time), no longer for their own convenience but just because they love her.

And now we wait in terror for the Christmas episode to rip all of it to pieces. 🥺

[carpetbug]

ML Feline Blue AU Chapter Two: The Pont des Arts

1 • 2 [tw: blood and slightly gory imagery] • 3

ao3

The last time Marinette had felt such paralyzing anxiety as she traveled towards the Pont de Arts was middle school. It was the day she realized she had a crush on Kim, and Socqueline - her best friend at the time, who left Francois’s Dupont at the end of 8th grade - had almost immediately shut down the immature day dream that was their future together. Still, Marinette had made her way to the bridge after school to stare at the locks of all the couples that had been here before her and conjure up sickeningly sweet fake scenarios of her new heartthrob. The craziest thing she had done that day was silently wish that Kim would magically reciprocate her romantic feelings, and still it had felt like she was walking some invisible tightrope, putting her life on the line for some spectacular balancing act she knew she could never pull off. She can still remember the way her hands shook and stomach churned while she perused the locks that decorated the bridge's walls. The fear she felt that day, that heavy stone of discomfort that lodged itself in her stomach, she felt it now all the same. Only this time, instead of feeling like she was merely risking her life, she could have sworn she was marching straight to death's door. And the miniature ladybug creature, this ‘kwami’, was doing little to put her unease to bed.

“You’re not listening, are you Marinette?” the alien-like red bug questioned delicately with a slight inflection to her already syrupy voice. Her eyes softened with guilt when Marinette met her expression with a lost look, lips parted slightly as she struggled to respond.

“I-I’m sorry.. uh.. Tek…?”

“Tikki” the small bug smiled patiently.

“Right. Tikki. I’m sorry Tikki” Marinette sighed and adjusted her hold on the miracle box. What a guardian she would be, she couldn’t even remember this kwamis name. How was she supposed to do.. well, everything else?

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

“I died. That old man pushed me into the seine and I died.” Marinette stammered in disbelief as her limbs pushed her away from these freaks of nature without waiting for her brain's command.

“Don’t be scared, Marinette! We’re your friends!” The ladybug themed creature said reassuringly, dropping the intense tone with which she was speaking seconds prior. She, along with all the other small beings, floated effortlessly in the air. “I am Tikki, the kwami of creation. We aren’t going to hurt you, Master”

“Master?” Marinettes throat went bone dry as the words rattled her brain. She was their master? “Oh my god I’ve actually lost my mind.” She chuckled under her breath. The chuckle morphed to a steady laughter, and soon enough she was doubled over in hysterics, hands clutching her sides so tightly she could feel her nails digging into her ribcage. “That OLD man PUSHED me into the SEINE and I DIED!” She shouted in a side-splitting roar of laughter.

“Good job Sugarcube, now she’s having a breakdown.” Marinette heard a much more sour voice taunt. Suddenly what seemed like a million more voices chirped in, each unique in its pitch and pronunciation, and each more desperate to be heard than the last. She could only hear broken sentences and words through the plethora of noise from the kwamis and her own uncontrollable laughter, an occasional ‘We’re doomed!’ and ‘Master Fu!’ catching her ear.

“Just hush, Plagg!” the ladybug scoffed in annoyance. She darted closer to Marinette, small fin-like arm extending to pat her shoulder in a comforting gesture. “Tune them out Marinette, you simply need time. Your bravery will surface soon.” She tried to soothe the frantic girl before returning her attention to the other beings. “Everyone, please listen! We can’t do this now, not to her.” Tikki spoke sternly, yet the words hung in the air like a plea. “I.. I’m certain none of us are ready to speak about Master Fu," a dejected tone began to cling to her small voice as she continued “But he wants us to go forward. And he needs us to guide the new guardian”. Marinette looked up as her voice began to catch in her throat, a pang of pity shooting through her unstable heart at the sight of the tears beginning to pool in the small beings eyes.

“Master Fu?” Marinette repeated softly, peeling her hands off her body and standing up from the rough cement platform that offered her safety. With a powerful shudder she became painfully aware that she was still soaked from the seine. Her hands traveled up to her hair, removing the smooth ribbon that held together her right pigtail - the left had come undone in the water. “Is that... was that the old man?” She asked the kwamis with a weary tone, eyes trained on her soggy shoes as her hands wrung out her dark hair of the water still wearing it down. “Why did he-?”

“Throw you in a river?” the sour voice chimed in again. It belonged to the black cat, who was now floating leisurely on his back with a yawn. Marinette was almost certain she could see sharp teeth in the kwamis mouth. Tikki shot him a deathly glare, but he went on. “I’m Plagg, kwami of destruction, lover of cheese” He stated with casual disinterest, as if nothing traumatic had just occurred. “Not his smartest move, I’ll agree. But-” he sat upright and narrowed his eyes, voice taking a more serious tone “-he did what he had to do to keep us all safe.” his long tail flicked, motioning to the other kwamis. “That includes you.”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

“I was telling you about the kwamis, '' Tikki chirped, following by her guardian's side while levitating in the air. Marinette nodded, quickly glancing up to check what street they had reached, then darting her eyes back down to the wooden box she had hugged to her chest. It was getting harder and harder to focus on the bugs' words, her mind occupied only with thoughts of Master Fu. Despite the kwamis, and the freezing water that seems to have seeped into her bones, and the distressed voices in her head yelling at her that she was alone in this, Marinette couldn’t shake the idea that this man was still alive. He would be waiting at the Pont de Arts, ready to retrieve his miracle box and kwamis, and he'd reassure her that she would never have to worry about any of this miraculous nonsense ever again. Marinette wasn’t going to find his body. She wouldn’t.

“There's nineteen kwamis in all, but two of us are missing. Nooro and Duusu are the kwamis of transmi-”

“Tikki, I’m- I can’t-” Marinette bit her tongue as she fought to find the right words.

“What is it Marinette?”

“I’m sorry but I just can’t talk about this with you. It’s just… too much” Marinette mumbled, wishing the earth would open up beneath her and swallow her whole. “Can’t this Master Fu just explain things to me when we find him?”

Tikki blinked in surprise and remained silent for a few seconds. Then, she nodded and feigned a weak smile. “Of course Marinette. If we find Master Fu he will explain everything” she reassured.

Marinette nodded absentmindedly, taking another brief glimpse at the street signs and sighing in relief at seeing they were close to their destination. Suddenly this all felt like some sort of fever dream, like she would go home and sleep tonight then wake up in the morning with nothing changed. Except maybe she would always think about being thrown in the seine, the cold and brutal water that had seeped through her skin, leaving her fingertips wrinkled and pruny against the wood of the miracle box. And sure, it might feel real enough that her knees still wobble a bit as she walks, but everyone has horrible nightmares sometimes - right?

“Marinette”

“One second, Tikki” she stopped the kwami, still stuck in her train of thought.

“Marinette!” Tikki had paused, and Marinette turned her head to see the small red kwami floating, arm extended to point at the bridge that suddenly seemed to appear in front of them. When had they gotten here?

“Oh. Great, we’re here! Let’s find this Fu-Man and let me get home so I can go to bed and forget all about this.” She adjusted her hold on the box and began to cross the wide bridge when Tikki darted in front of her with urgency.

“Wait! Master, I must tell you, thi-”

“Sorry, but please just call me Marinette.”

Tikki smiled and continued “Marinette, I have to quickly warn you that- even we kwamis are not sure of the lengths this villain is willing to go. We do not know if he acts with mercy, so this may be something you don’t want to see. If you’d like, I can go ahead without you and see for myself then come back?”

Marinette scrunched her nose as she thought for a few moments. Eventually she shook her head and smiled- a genuine and kind smile that made Tikkis heart ache. “No need, I’ll come with you. You’ve been here for me during all this, so I want to be here for you until you’re back in good hands” she promised.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

“He was being chased?” Marinette questioned, reeling from the information the cat kwami had just dumped over her head like cold water. Fu had been pursued by some unknown antagonist for several weeks, until they eventually found and attacked the guardian. Marinette had only been an innocent bystander, a stranger in the wrong place at the wrong time, and a helping hand when Fu was at his most desperate for any kind of savior. She was the only way to get the miracle box out of the villains' reach in such a short amount of time. And the seine had been the only way to get her out of danger.

“More like hunted” Plagg sneered in response and crossed his arms

“Plagg, you're scaring her!”

“She should be scared!”

While the black and red kwami hissed at each other, the girl's head was spinning, overwhelmed with this new world she was suddenly a part of. There were so many questions running through her mind, all begging to be answered. But the most desperate one came first “Can we go back to the Pont des Arts?” She asked softly, interrupting their argument.

Plaggs expression widened in shock, and he was about to protest when Tikki stopped him. “Good idea, I’ll have all the kwamis return to the miracle box.”

“Well, wait-” she stopped her “Will you stay with me? I would feel a bit better if I had someone more informed by my side”

The red bug smiled and nodded, still ignoring the bewildered look from the cat. Before he could say anymore, she turned back to the kwamis, leaving him grumbling and following after her.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

“God. It’s already three a.m, papa is going to be awake and getting started in the bakery soon.” Marinette muttered to herself while checking the time, her and Tikki moving at a slow pace across the bridge. It was dark, the moon providing the majority of the lighting cast down on them. And, it was almost entirely silent. Save for the constant rushing of the water beneath the bridge -the sound was making her hands begin to shake all over again-, and the occasional distant hum of a car passing nearby.

“A bakery?” Tikki whispered in response.

“Yeah,” she smiled. “My parents own a bakery. ‘Tom and Sabines’.” Her hands came together then spread like she was forming a rainbow in the air as she spoke, adding a loving touch to the simple name. Tikki gave a light giggle.

“Sounds amazing! What kind of sweets do they make?” the red bug questioned before suddenly gasping, “Do they make cookies?! I haven’t had a chocolate chip cookie in so long!”

Marinette was taken back by the kwamis sudden eagerness for one of the simplest sweets their bakery had to offer, but she couldn’t help but give an entertained laugh. “We make all kinds of cookies. Snickerdoodle, peanut butter, red velvet, oatmeal raisin, -”

“Yuck.”

“Don’t you dare say that about oatmeal raisin cookies.”

“Get to the good stuff!”

She stuck her tongue out teasingly at the kwami before continuing, “chocolate chip, chocolate chunks, and like a billion other ones I'm forgetting. Give or take seasonal and custom flavors my dad makes from time to time, too.” When she looked up, Marinette swore a line of drool was trailing from Tikkis mouth, but as soon as she had noticed it the bug was in her face in excitement once again.

“Wow!” Tikki exclaimed. “I can’t wait to try them.”

“How long has it been since you last had a cookie?” she asked. Marinette wondered what parts of human life the kwamis knew of and took part in, given the ‘secrecy’ about their existence. They were familiar enough to have opinions on cookie flavors, apparently.

“Oh, I'm not sure. I haven’t had a holder in a few decades, though I have left the miracle box during that time, - Marinette? Are you not listening again?”

Almost as soon as the kwami had started talking, Marinette had frozen her stare on something ahead of them, and she seemed a million worlds away. Tikki turned to look and her heart dropped.

Blood soaked into the wood underfoot, leaving a dark stain that seemed pure black in the night time. More sat in small pools and splatters, some spraying across the lock decorations and steadily drip-drip-dripping into the surface below. The longer she stared the more she realized the Pont des Arts would now always feel like it had been smeared with death. It was all too fresh, like someone had drained the old man of all his blood and used it like paint, spreading the viscous liquid on any surface they could. It seemed like both an introduction, and parting gift. The display was left with intent, the predator that had gotten Fu was leaving a warning for whoever tried to come to his rescue. It said ‘I’m here, look what I am capable of. Look at everything I did. Look at what I’m willing to do.’

Marinette took a step back, mouth agape as she realized breathing was becoming increasingly difficult. Her blood pounded in her ears, droning out the seemingly fraught help Tikki was trying to provide the panicked girl. Another step back and her legs buckled, dropping her directly into the glistening pools of gore. Her hands clenched into fists, now stained a dark red as she kneeled in the blood, and she panted in desperate need for air. It seemed to hang in the air now, the metallic tang filling her mouth and nose.

“Marinette!”

The screech - almost directly in her ear - snapped her attention back to the ladybug creature, whose voice was feverish with alarm. “Tikki..” she breathed, still struggling to keep from hyperventilating. “Tikki, this is him, isn’t it?” Marinette brought her hands up, now holding them raised in the air to shine in the moonlight. The crimson liquid trickled from her palm to her wrist, then down her elbow and back to the bridge. “This is Master Fu?” the tears began to fall down her cheeks now, the reality setting in. She was the guardian. She was alone.

“You need to get home.”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Marinette gets home, soaked (though no longer bloody, thanks to an alley hose she passed on her walk), and exhausted. Her breathing still awkward and unbalanced, lungs aching from whatever water she took in from the seine. Her emotions bubble inside her, threatening to spill over from her eyes once again. It was bad enough you could tell she had been crying already, she didn’t need her parents to see her in the act. Tikki rested on her shoulder, tucked neatly into her hair as they approached the bakery.

“Home sweet home” she said, waving her hands with pretend enthusiasm as she tried to revive the playful energy they had earlier. Instead her voice felt deflated and hollow. Her hands reached for the doorknob, shaking slightly as they hovered above it.

“Do you not want to go in?”

“Its not that.”

“Marinette. You can talk to me”

Marinette took a deep breath. “I can’t hide all this from my parents. Not yet, at least. If I go inside now and they’re awake, they'll know I was outside then they’ll see I was crying and I’m terrible at hiding things from my maman so one word from her and I’ll instantly spill everything that happened and then they-”

“Slow, Marinette. Is there any way you can sneak in?”

“Only through a window or my balcony, both of which I definitely can't reach from down here” she huffed, the puff of breath blowing through her still damp bangs that hung across her face. She was about to grit her teeth and accept the inevitable interrogation her parents would give when Tikki spoke again.

“I can fix that.” the kwami gave a sweet smile before phasing seamlessly through the wood of the miracle box and returning with a small case in her arms. “These are the miraculous of the ladybug. If you put on these earrings and say ‘Spots On’, you'll transform and be able to get to your balcony undetected.”

Marinette hesitated, then reached for the box and opened the lid to peek at the miraculous. Inside were two round, red earrings each with five small spots, which she carefully plucked from their resting places. They went through her ears effortlessly and lacked the weight that many earrings came with. “Please don’t tell me this is going to hurt” she wheezed, eyes drooping with sleep.

“Definitely not.” Tikki reassured quickly. “When you’re inside just say ‘Spots Off’ to drop the transformation.”

“Well… spots on?”

Tikki flew through the air, this time as if she was being pulled by some invisible force - one coming from the earrings. Her vision exploded with pink as bubbling, glowing masses appeared out of thin air and swarmed onto her body. She held her breath and pressed her eyes closed, still awaiting a sting or ache to overtake her body despite Tikkis reassurance. Instead the magical clouds felt light and tingly on her skin as they passed over her from head to toe.

The buzz came to a stop in a few moments which Marinette took as a cue to open her eyes. Nothing around her had changed, she was still standing outside the bakery clutching the miracle box, only now she was dressed in a sleek red and black spotted suit from neck to toe. She was a ladybug.

Marinettes breathing hitched in her chest as she ran her gloved hand across the material, then up to her face where she felt the grooves of a mask across her eyes. Built in secret identity, cool. She felt refreshed, the soreness in her legs was now just a weak discomfort. She took a relieved breath, and slowly stretched her limbs as she gathered her bearings. A yoyo rested on her hip, also a solid red with five black spots like the earrings, but with the same honeycomb texturing of her suit.

“A yoyo? I’m going to… yoyo to my room?” she mumbled to herself as she gave it a few experimental tosses. Looking up, she took a few breaths and prepared herself. She took a step back and threw the yo-yo towards a neighboring roof, then gave a slight tug when it had wrapped around some solid object. It pulled her effortlessly from the ground, propelling her upwards while she struggled, airborne, like a fish out of water. In moments she landed, almost entirely flat on her face, on the spine of the rooftop.

It took a minute for Marinette to figure out her next step, which ended up being just to drop from the roof to her balcony. It had seemed much more complicated in her head, like she would have to be some ninja, hiding in the shadows. But she had left the trapdoor to her room unlocked, so it had required no more effort than opening a door. She landed softly on her bed, and subsequently threw herself back onto her blankets with an exasperated sigh.

“Spots off” she mumbled, already fighting the alluring call of sleep. Another flash of the magic light and the suit was gone, leaving Tikki in its place. She looked around, observing her new environment before turning back to Marinette.

“Home sweet home” She echoed the previous statement, then burrowed into the crook of Marinettes elbow as the girl groggily put herself to bed. With the miracle box held firmly in her grip, and the deep ache slowly returning to her muscles as the magic of the miraculous wore off, she mumbled a barely coherent goodnight to Tikki and let herself fall into the comfort of sleep.

[louisaland]

SVU Stabler kids’ schools

For fic purposes, I was trying to find out where some of the Stabler kids go to school.

In Season 1, we can assume Maureen goes to school that doesn’t have a uniform, and that is probably not single sex as she goes to the Homecoming dance in Wanderlust with a boy and see her dad drop her off towards the end of Sophomore Jinx and nobody seems to be wearing anything remotely similar to Maureen’s black top and white jeans.

In Season 6, Elliot goes to talk to Kathleen outside her high school, which is named as Glen Oaks High School. The exterior looks completely different to where Elliot dropped Maureen off in Season 1, and I think there are only girls around, so it could be single sex. There doesn’t seem to be any sort of uniform though, as all Kathleen’s friends are wearing wildly different outfits. 

In Season 3, Kathleen is shown to be struggling with several subjects so maybe Elliot and Kathy deemed a smaller school with fewer distractions might be better ( if there aren’t any boys that will minimise the boy drama) but Elliot mentions Kathleen’s former boyfriend, so I really don’t know, it could be the same school as Maureen’s.

In Season 11, Turmoil, we find out that Dickie goes to Cardinal Catholic Prep School, which has a pretty strict/smart uniform ( shirt, tie and blazer), and seems to be single sex as when the SVU squad come to interview Dickie’s classmates, we only see boys there. 

We know that Dickie got into a fight in Season 8, which would be middle school age. So maybe Elliot and Kathy thought he’d be happier/do better in a smaller school with more support and he’d have some more male friends/guy time as he seems to take Kathy and Elliot’s split very hard and seemingly only lives with his mum, sisters and grandma during their separation and doesn’t see his dad as much as he would like to. 

My head canon is that Lizzie goes to a performing arts school and they put on regular shows ( in Season 10 or 11, Elliot ends up going to one of them and mentions she was in Anne Frank before that). 

And Eli, when they are in Rome, goes to an International School where he has classes in English with other native English speakers and history, geography, science, maths etc are all in Italian, though the American section do focus on US history, geography and literature too, of course. 

When Eli returns to New York, he is several years ahead of his peers so is in all AP classes or joins the older students for their lessons and graduates early, at 16/17, to help with the wonky timeline as he is supposed to be at most 14 when Kathy dies ( and it’s probably closer to 13, really), if my maths is correct. Each Season is 6 months to a year long, with maybe a few “X months later” jumps, He left in Season 12, aged (nearly?)  3, came back in Season 22, so that’s 10 years give or take, plus let’s say 2 time jumps of 6 months each makes him 14. And by Season 3 he is already in college, which would make him 17-ish! 

[laughhardrunfastbekindsblog]

I've been thinking a lot about the scene involving "Clone Force 99 died with Tech" and trying to figure out why it STILL doesn't sit right with me even now, 5 months after the Bad Batch finale aired.

Because really, looking at the line and how Hunter and Wrecker respond to it from an in-universe standpoint, it does fit the specific scenario well. Crosshair is getting ever closer to Tantiss with a severely wounded Wrecker refusing to give up, and he's worried. So Crosshair drops that bombshell of a line, reminding his brothers that the squad has permanently changed, in an attempt to try to save Hunter and Wrecker by convincing them to leave him and find a way to contact Rex as he storms Tantiss on his own, because it's "what he deserves." Hunter responds by saying Omega and the clone prisoners need all of them - which (being generous with my interpretation) is likely meant to address the "I deserve to die alone" sentiment Crosshair expressed by instead providing him another purpose. Then Wrecker responds by saying they know the risks and aren't charging in recklessly - addressing Crosshair's original concern.

So I think I would ultimately be fine with this scene as-is if 1) it didn't end up being the last time the brothers ever reference Tech, and 2) it didn't come at the end of an entire season's worth of complete mismanagement regarding the Tech storyline.

Now, I admit my perception will likely permanently be colored by the fact that when first watching the finale and hearing Crosshair say that line, part of me still clung to hope that Tech would show up before the end credits, but in between heaving sobs the analytical part of my brain was going "...Really? A full season of baiting us and THAT'S how you're going to tell your audience Tech isn't coming back? If that's really the case so help me..." And we all know that really was the case 😫😤😭

(Screaming into the void. Starting to realize I do a lot of void-screaming when it comes to season 3, especially with everything after "The Return.")

But even setting aside how soul-crushingly painful that line is, what continues to drive me absolutely bonkers about it is:

1) Tech sacrificed himself so that his squad COULD carry on without him, whether that meant fighting or not, and yet again the narrative itself refuses to openly acknowledge this. Even if Crosshair isn't at a point where he can really accept this (and that's a valid stance for him to take), it would have gone a long way for the show (via Hunter or Wrecker in this case specifically) to still definitively highlight why Tech had done what he did, especially after an entire season that ended up only implying that Tech's sacrifice held the squad back from achieving their goals.

(Another fan told me that they believe the line was a good way to acknowledge how important Tech is because the squad will never be the same without him. While I see their point, I think if the show really wanted to push that sentiment it would have landed a lot better if worded a bit differently and stated during, I don't know, a memorial for Tech. With all Tech's family there. Not desperately thrown out there by Crosshair in the middle of a mission as an attempt to shock/guilt Hunter and Wrecker into saving themselves - after all, as noted above, the purpose of the line in context isn't specifically to honor Tech anyway.)

2) There's no follow up to address the fact that Tech sacrificed himself, in part, so Crosshair could still be saved - nothing to provide that vital reassurance to Crosshair that he was/is WORTH saving.

3) After an entire season of being excruciatingly vague about whether each Bad Batcher has fully grieved or not, they're STILL keeping it vague and robbing the characters of any cathartic moment to acknowledge Tech in a way that actually respects his sacrifice and shows his family - his squad - is acting to honor his memory.

4) Above all, IT'S THE ONLY TIME TECH IS REFERENCED IN THE FINALE OF THE SERIES IN WHICH HE IS A MAIN CHARACTER and it's not in a way that highlights his positive influence on his brothers, nothing to indicate that this mission to Tantiss would have been just as important to him as it is to the rest of them so they're going to pull together as much to honor him as to accomplish their objectives, nothing to make that reference anything more than a knife to the heart. (Oh, sorry, there is that goggles reference in the epilogue. With Omega, alone. Yet again, the brothers have no meaningful interaction about Tech.)

And the thing is, even if when Tech does come back (and I firmly believe he can), the show that is specifically centered around the Bad Batch should not have ended without providing meaningful closure for all of them. (Yes, I'm still banking on another clone-centric show being in the works; but Rebels clearly left the door open for further stories while still leaving things wrapped up for all the main characters at the end of that show, and that could - and should - have happened here.)

...Anyway, now that I've gotten all that off my chest, maybe I'll be a bit calmer during future rewatches of the finale 😅

... Scratch that, I'll probably need to spell out all my grievances about the CX plotline before I reach the point of watching the finale with relative calm 😬

[thatpersonnooneknowz]

So…. For the past few months I’ve been working on a mcsm fic that I’m not sure whether I should post or not. I finally feel satisfied with the prologue enough to post it, so here it is.

(Rn the prologue is pretty short, but the main chapters are way longer)

You Died! Click to continue?

Chapter 1: The End? Or the Beginning?

…

…

Brown eyes blinked open, gazing unfocused at the space before them. The flickering specks of white were the only reprieve from the inky darkness that stretched into the distance. 

What’s happening?

Jesse sluggishly moved her head around, and a seemingly endless void gazed back at her. The deathly silence was like a roar in her ears, unable to hear even the rustling of her clothes when she whirled her head around, desperately searching for any sign of, well, anything.

Where am I?

It felt as though she were floating in water, her body deprived of the usual gravity that grounded her every move. With every motion, she felt her body shift too, yet the same scene laid unchanged before her eyes. 

“Hello?” She called out, but all that greeted her was silence. 

Incapable of righting herself, she tried to focus on the sensations she felt. Maybe then she would at least be able to tell which direction was up. 

Her brown hair gently floated behind her head, softly tickling the back of her neck. The inklings of a memory trickled into her head, but as if it were a distant star, she was unable to grasp it.

“Is anyone there?!” She shouted, and once again, the silence whispered back. 

The prickle of the shirt she wore turned her attention down to her clothes and she pulled at the loose cyan collar. The brown overalls that she wore under armor were in pristine condition, as if she’d never worn them before. 

But the peace did not last long. Like a skeleton’s arrow, a memory shot into her head. 

“JESSE!” A shrill scream echoed in her ears and Jesse shuddered violently at the familiar voice. 

The space around her neck constricted and she brought her hands up to it, gasping for air as it escaped her. Red and black flashed in her vision, piercing yellow and red eyes staring deep into her soul. Her lungs screamed for air. Her awareness slowly faded away.

In an instant, she was flung to the side and the world blurred. Whether from tears or speed, she couldn’t tell. The air returned to her lungs as she fell, the wind whipping past her face as she screamed yet no sound was–

“NO!”  

Jesse’s eyes shot open, her hands grasping towards her neck. The sounds of heavy pants filled the once silent room, and some semblance of awareness filtered through her racing thoughts. 

A soft red blanket covered her legs, patterned with embroidered characters and gifted to her by a close friend. The moonlight shone across the room, contrasted by the torch hung up near the bed to keep monsters away. 

Jesse’s eyes flicked from the open window, to the empty armor stand with an orange pumpkin for a head, to the banners covering the walls with familiar yet distant places and faces. She was in her old home, safe from the dangers outside. 

Her grip on her neck loosened, and the tension released from her shoulders, her hands dropping softly to the bed underneath. She stared unfocused at the roof, and once the walls no longer felt like they were closing in on her, took the opportunity to ground herself. 

Pushing the back of her head into the soft pillow, and clutching the white sheets beneath her, no doubt scrunching them up, Jesse closed her eyes once again. The remnants of the night sent images flashing through her brain, terrifying monsters, evil villains, and the loss of friends all among them. 

The breathing exercises taught to her by an unknown voice flowed through her mind, and despite the lump in her throat, she followed them the best she could.

In…2…3…4… Hold…2…3…4…

Out…2…3…4… Hold…2…3…4…

After what felt like forever, her breathing steadied to its regular rhythm, and her heart no longer felt like it would beat out of her chest. In the midst of it all, there was a soft snort from somewhere beside her, followed by the weight of something landing in her lap. 

Groaning, she lifted her body into a sitting position, and blearily opened her eyes again to see a face staring up at her with concern in it’s eyes. But she could only vacantly stare, scarcely able to create coherent thoughts among her scrambled mind. 

The remains of what her mind concocted trickled through the gaps that sleep left, unknown lands that she could only wish to explore, wondrous places rife for her to investigate, and people she’d never met filled her dreams. Amongst the terror and fear, joy made itself known, spreading across every second of her imaginary adventure. 

Until the end. An entity with the power of life at his fingertips and her, a person who compared to her, would make her disappear with the clap of his hands. Yet there she was, ready to fight for it all, unknown and familiar companions by her side. 

A moment of hesitation was all it took for everything to fall apart, for an unknown power to wrap itself around her neck, and for her to be flung to the side like a forgotten doll. It all felt so real, and yet…

It was all a dream. 

A shove ripped Jesse out of her thoughts, and in the moments that followed, she realized she was not the only one in the room. She looked down at her lap where a pink figure sat, trying to pull himself out of the blankets he was tangled in. 

“What is…” 

A pig stared back up at her, and a single name rang through her mind like a bell. 

Reuben.

Her best friend oinked quietly, eyes filled with worry as she continued to stare down at him. A drop of water landed on his head, and it startled both of them. The pig let out a quiet oink. 

“...Why am I…crying?” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and gave the pig a small smile, but the tears just wouldn’t stop falling.

Her eyes never strayed from the pig in her lap, and after a moment, she pulled him closer to her. A concerned squeal went unheard as Jesse’s tears began to cease, and her sniffles grew softer. 

Reuben went silent, and after burying his head into her stomach, a comfortable silence enveloped the two. Following another bout of awareness, a twinge of guilt grew in Jesse’s gut, the thought of her best friend worried leaving a bad taste in her mouth. 

“I’m sorry for worrying you Reuben, I just had a…bad dream.” She looked down at him and put on what she hoped was a reassuring grin. “Yea… just a nightmare.”

Reuben grinned back and oinked quietly, careful not to disturb the tranquility that encased the two. Jesse put her forehead to his and closed her eyes, letting the peaceful atmosphere wash over her. 

She was here, safe, with her best friend, and that’s all that mattered. 

“I’m just so glad you’re here.”

‘I am too.’ He oinked back, and Jesse’s smile widened just a little bit more. 

The sun rose across the horizon, filling the cool treehouse with a gentle orange glow. 

The light filtered through the trees, both shadow and light coalescing on the books that lined the walls. 

The leaves outside rustled quietly with the wind, and the squawk of parrots could be heard in the distance as they woke. 

A new day had dawned, as another was laid to rest.

[rainboneish]

i lied, i can’t wait until the official release, so have an absolutely massive text dump about what i think about chapter 267 and what i think could happen from here considering the newest developments:

okay i’ve decided… i like the fact that nobara is back, and i do think that it doesn’t contradict anything that has been previously established (her survival was very deliberately left as a possibility in a decently believable way)

the way she went down (and what Nitta said about her status) was open ended enough, no complaints there (especially comparing her “departure” (to quote gege) to Nanami’s and Mahito’s line wondering if he could drop her with one hit since he couldn’t do that with Nanami if he wasn’t already on the verge of death, it’s more than a bit of a Checkov’s gun, which is why so many people were already theorizing that she would return the way she did)

i also think that Megumi and Yuji’s conversation about her being as ambiguous as it was is not outside of the realm of realism, since it was only a couple days after she went down (so around 2 months earlier than the point when she woke up) so if her status at that moment was “comatose on life support and very unlikely to wake up”, so almost the same status Yuji last saw her in (plus considering the time Tsumiki spent in a coma makes it more likely for Megumi to sort of struggle to state the fact out loud)

however…

while I understand that gege might have deliberately avoided mentioning her status so that she would surprise us the way she did Sukuna, i think that it would feel less like a deus ex machina if they had mentioned her at least one more time, either by having Yuji (or anyone) visit her sickbed during the month’s preparation for the showdown, or by having Gojo allude to SOMETHING at any point where Yuji wasn’t present (be it at the airport, while talking to Ijichi before the fight, the same way that Yuta said that he would put Inumaki to work set up the recorder scene)

it didn’t have to be anything that would necessarily confirm her status or a direct mention of her, it could have been an unlabeled hospital bed at some point or something equally vague

i just personally would have liked having another connecting dot for her return around the time when seeds for similar surprising events were planted to make it fit a tad better

anyway, all that said and done, now to the return itself: Loved it, the whole chapter was very well executed and the build up in the chapter itself was very good

it does feel a little out of character for the tone of the series itself (gege has a habit of not letting the good guys win anything without it feeling bittersweet or pulling the rug right from under them (and us) at the last second (the fight against the death paintings with Yuji’s grief after, Mahito being absorbed, Kenjaku starting the culling games just as Yuki’s appearance gave people hope, the whole Tsumiki twist just when we thought they were getting out, the way Gojo died just when they thought he won etc)

because of that i am SO SCARED RIGHT NOW (which i’m sure he did on purpose)… everything looks like we are lined up for 3 to live (if gojo stays dead, which i hope he does, as much as i love him, the guy’s last words are that he is happy he went out the way he did and that he hopes his afterlife vision is real, LET HIM REST, he wouldn’t want to survive in exchange for Yuji or Megumi’s death (also having another character come back from the “dead”, especially one that is properly established to be dead, at this point feels like it would cheapen the concept of death in the series))

now, if this is how it ends, and this chapter was officially announced as the climax of the battle in advance so that’s likely, especially with the condition sukuna was in at the end, you won’t catch me complaining (i’m not THAT kind of shonen fan, griping over on twt about how it’s bad writing if we get a happy ending, these kids have been through ENOUGH, let them have time to grow older together, they never even managed to get to first name basis)

however: we do have another 4 chapters left…

and that leaves us with the option that if gege decides to be evil (like he often is) we could dramatically go from having unexpectedly reached the final “3 live 1 dies “ configuration, giving us a sense of security, to a fear of reaching the dreaded “only one survivor” option

Now, I previously made a different too long post about why either of the boys being the lone survivor would both be equally good story telling for a bittersweet ending to this story (see here)

now, i’m going to exclude the option of Nobara dying because her coming back just to be killed a chapter or two later would be stupid (plus the only way i can see that happening is if Uraume suddenly shows up at the dam after having killed Hakari and taken a train which… yeah… ), so that would automatically make her the lone survivor (again, already talked about the reasons why either of they boys dying works, though i will say that her return would strengthen Megumi’s will to live)

Nobara is more independent as a character than either of the boys, as far as her motivations go. She is the one character (out of the three of them) who viewed being a sorcerer as a job (think about her asking Momo is her life is just a job during their fight), more than having it directly tied into her purpose in life, which is something a lot of the adult survivors have in common. She has people outside of jujutsu society that she would like to see again (to be blunt, she has other friends and family, unlike the other two, plus she didn’t go through the additional trauma that made the other two cling to each other even more)

while she would definitely grieve them immensely, she has the resilience to grow around that grief, if both Megumi and Yuji should somehow die with Sukuna.

Again, i don’t think this is the most likely outcome, especially considering that gege said that he hopes the ending will make people happy which dead main characters don’t tend to do, but i do think that this is definitely an option i can’t dismiss out of hand until Sukuna is officially dead

edit: another point in favour of the happy ending is of course, the whole "jjk is about breaking the cycle" theory, which is reinforced by the "cycling curse" line on the second to last page of this chapter